


Picture Perfect

by dememetor



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aobajousai, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Romance, Bad Humor, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou are Bros, Bokuto Koutarou Being an Idiot, Boys In Love, Childhood Friends, Cute, Eventual Fluff, Everyone Is Gay, First Dates, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Fukuroudani, Gay, Gay Panic, Happy Ending, High School, Ice Skating, Idiots in Love, Iwaizumi Hajime Is So Done, Jealousy, Johzenji, Karasuno, Kuroo Tetsurou Being an Idiot, M/M, Making Out, Minor Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Nekoma, Oikawa Tooru's Knee Injury, POV Third Person, Party Games, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Romance, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game, Study Date, Teen Romance, Volleyball, Volleyball Dorks in Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24171559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dememetor/pseuds/dememetor
Summary: "Are you sure this is gonna work out?""Oh yeah, definitely," Kuroo nodded wisely."Mhm," Bokuto crossed his arms.Oikawa looked up at both of them.  It's been a while since they'd all met up here at Oikawa's place to try and solve his little problem. However, the clock on the wall just above Kuroo's head had just struck 2 am and the entirety of their lengthy brainstorming led them up to this:***After realizing his feelings for his childhood best friend Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru tries to find a way to ask him out. But after things don't work out as planned, he figures maybe he shouldn't have listened to Kuroo and Bokuto's love advice.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 67
Kudos: 113





	1. The Picture

"Are you sure this is gonna work out?"

"Oh yeah, definitely," Kuroo nodded wisely.

"Mhm," Bokuto crossed his arms.

Oikawa looked up at both of them. It's been a while since they'd all met up here at Oikawa's place to try and solve his little problem. However, the clock on the wall just above Kuroo's head had just struck 2 am and the entirety of their lengthy brainstorming led them up to this. 

"So," he took a deep breath, "what you're saying is that all I need to do is make out with some guy, you will then take a picture of us, sneakily, as if it were taken on some kind of a party, and send it to Hanamaki, who will then proceed to show it to Mattsun, and then, consequently, the whole team will know about it because the two of them are, with all due respect, massive snitches."

Bokuto grinned and motioned for him to continue. "Exactly."

Oikawa carefully side-eyed him. "And then, after it naturally comes to Iwaizumi, he will, I quote, be so jealous that he just won't be able to resist the urge to ask me out."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Kuroo took a sip of his pomegranate tea.

"That is the stupidest fucking thing I have ever hear-" Akaashi's voice came through Bokuto's phone speakers but Kuroo quickly ended the call.

"Don't listen to him, he's just unimaginative. I can assure you this will work. We all know Iwaizumi - he's straightforward and emotional, as soon as he sees that picture he will go all feral on you."

Oikawa scrunched up his face in cringe. "Jesus Christ, Kuroo-"

"No but he's right," Bokuto chirped in. "I would probably react the same."

"Yeah sure, after you'd spend a week and a half in your emo mode, all depressed and quoting LaLaLand or something," Kuroo sneered, barely dodging a calculator Bokuto threw at him.

Oikawa pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm serious, idiots. This is important to me and I really don't wanna screw it up. I think Akaashi is right."

"Realistically speaking, Akaashi is in the minority. He's the only one who doesn't like the idea with the picture, whereas Bokuto and me both think that it's a fantastic plan. And, objectively speaking, that makes the two of us. See, two against one."

"Yeah but the difference between you two and Akaashi is that Akaashi's single eyebrow has more functioning braincells than the two of you ever did."

It was now Oikawa's turn to dodge the calculator.

"I don't wanna make things weird. I should probably just ask him out like a normal person. And I _would_ if I were sure that he's into guys!" 

"What, he never really specified anything?"

Oikawa shrugged. "I mean I never asked but he _did_ date a girl once in middle school"

"Oh", Bokuto slouched, disappointed.

"I don't know man, anyone who willingly puts up with you their whole life is either insane or gay so I'd say your chancese are pretty high," Kuroo stretched his arms behind his head. "It's getting late, we should put our plan into action."

Oikawa fidgeted with the end of his shirt. "I don't know..."

"Listen," Bokuto stood up, "this is a win-win situation. If Iwaizumi likes you, he will show it and you'll know it's safe to ask him out. If not, you get to kiss a hot guy for a while. "

"Great, except there are thousands of ways that this could go wrong, and the guy I get to kiss is Kuroo."

"Wait what?" Kuroo's head shot up.

"What do you mean 'wait what'?"

"I never meant to make out with you?"

"Wait you didn't?" Bokuto's confused look met Kuroo's.

"What the hell you two, why did both of you just assume that I'll be the one who does the making out?!" 

"Because you're the sluttiest here, obviously," Oikawa lifted an eyebrow.

"You disgust me. I have a reputation to keep, you know."

"Who's gonna do it then?" Bokuto asked.

Kuroo grinned. "There is only one person who is horny enough to come to a stranger's house at 2 am just to get a free make-out session."

***

The doorbell rang.

Oikawa's phone almost flew out of his hands. 

"There he is," Kuroo glanced lazily at the clock. "It took him exactly eight minutes to get here."

"Damn, he's good," Bokuto admitted.

 _I don't like this_ , Oikawa wiped his palms on his trousers. He stumbled trying to get to the door, but then strategically decided to let Kuroo in front of him. His heart was beating faster than ever and his knees were almost trembling. He clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated. What was wrong with him? Why was he this nervous? It's not like he never hooked up with a guy before, let alone kissed one. He had to get it together. He was Oikawa Tooru, undoubtedly the prettiest setter in Japan, and he certainly wasn't going to hide like a little bitch because of some irrelevant making out. 

The door swung open.

A blond boy greeted them with a toothy grin. "Kuroo, you sexy motherfucker."

"Terushima," Kuroo replied just as amused.

The blond entered the house with his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly as if he owned the place. The air around him was thick with confidence and Oikawa couldn't yet figure out if it was attractive or if he was a pompous dickhead.

"You must be Oikawa."

Oikawa nearly jumped. He put on an unimpressed face and put on a painfully fake smile. He was _not_ going to be a flustered mess around this overly-confidet bleached twat. "Nice to meet you."

Kuroo grabbed them by their shirts while letting out an irritated sigh and led them both into the living room. Bokuto waved smugly from the sofa while Kuroo sat Terushima down and started telling him about their plan. Oikawa couldn't help but feel anxious. He had a gut feeling that he was going to deeply regret this. But he kept his mout shut and decided to protest in silence by playing with the hem of his shirt. _Get ahold of yourself, Oikawa. This is for the greater good._

"Alright, loverboys, get up. Let's get this going."

Oikawa awkwardly watched Kuroo and Bokuto as they wandered around his house in search for the best filming spot. He purposely continued to ignore the blond's curious look.

"So... How do you and Kuroo know each other?" Terushima asked. 

"We played against each other a couple of times," he mumbled, clenching his jaw. To be honest, the Terushima guy didn't even seem that bad. Aside from his annoying cocky smile, he looked genuinely nice and interested in him. 

"Cool."

Uneasy silence ensued and Oikawa almost felt guilty for not asking anything back.

"You don't really look like you wanna do this, huh," Terushima let out an awkward laugh.

"How'd you know," he huffed sarcastically. He realized his response sounded bitter and he immediately mentally slapped himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean to come out as rude."

"No worries."

Before they could find themselves in yet another weird silence, Bokuto's head popped out from behind the living room door. "We're all set. Come here."

In one confusing moment, Oikawa found himself backed up against the dining room wall with Terushima in front of him and, he was now certain, two biggest idiots ever to walk this Earth behind the corner, rotating the phone and trying to find the best angle to take the picture. Oikawa's heart was now beating rapidly. His body was in full panic mode; his chest rising and falling rapidly and his arms slightly shaking He couldn't tell if Terushima was feeling the same. The blond seemed to avoid his gaze, but at the same time he was looking around with utter boredom, a shadow of a smirk constantly grazing his lips. _I fucking hate confident people. ___

__"Okay, yes, that is perfect. Terushima, if you could turn around a bit so we can see your face," Bokuto gave them a thumbs up. "And, cut!"_ _

__"Please stop making it seem like we're shooting porn."_ _

__"Stop beating around the bush and just kiss each other."_ _

__Oikawa nervously looked at Terushima. The latter looked as if he could burst out laughing any second. He started leaning in and-_ _

__"WAIT NO," Kuroo yelled with a panicked expression._ _

__Oikawa literally jumped in place. "What the hell, Kuroo?"_ _

__"You didn't say no homo."_ _

__Terushima laughed, but Oikawa was sure that at that very moment he could kill a man. His miserable expression must've been obvious because Bokuto lightly slapped Kuroo and motioned with his hand to get back to work._ _

__"Don't be a jackass. Let's just get this over with."_ _

__And with those words, without a warning, Terushima cupped Oikawa's face and pressed their lips together. He held onto Terushima's hand and carefully returned the kiss. He could feel the blond boy easing into him and closing the distance between them even more. The next thing Oikawa knew was that there was a tongue being shoved in his mouth. _What a dickhead.__ _

__That's when the camera sounds started. As if the situation wasn't absurd enough, it appeared someone's phone volume was set to loudest possible._ _

__Kuroo sneezed. Twice._ _

__Oikawa had never felt more uncomfortable. Silently cursing his condemned bloodline, he pushed Terushima away. "I'm sorry, but this is fucking ridiculous."_ _

__"Was it that bad?" Terushima's brows furrowed into a playful expression._ _

__"No, but I could have gone the rest of my life not knowing how a tongue piercing feels against the back of my throat."_ _

__"Come here, let's see the photos," Bokuto called and the four boys gathered around the phone screen. He swiped as Kuroo absent-mindedly mumbled something to himself, his eyes squinting at the pictures. Oikawa couldn't help but cringe. The sight of himself making out with someone felt weird, as if he was somehow intruding his own privacy._ _

__"That one," Kuroo abruptly stopped Bokuto's hand. "That one is perfect."_ _

__Oikawa looked at the photo. Kuroo was right, the picture was taken sloppily; half of it was blurry as if it was taken in a rush, an indistinguishable wall covered most of the picture, and most importantly it was nearly impossible to tell where it was taken. Oikawa was actually impressed. If he'd seen the photo elsewhere he wouldn't doubt its credibility._ _

__"What do you guys think?"_ _

__"I dunno. We look pretty good, I guess."_ _

__"Yeah, I think it will work," Oikawa started tapping his fingers, slowly getting lost in his thoughts again. Was there really a chance they will pull this off successfully? Could Kuroo and Bokuto's dumb plan actually work? What if Iwaizumi has feelings for him? Maybe he would then try to figure something out and ask him on a date? He was probably being stupid all over again, but what if he gets lucky? For all he knew Bokuto was right - he had nothing to lose. "No, I think it will definitely work. Send it to Hanamaki."_ _

__Bokuto gave Kuroo a sly high-five and tapped the little 'share' button. He scrolled down to Hanamaki's contact and clicked it, triumphantly._ _

__"Awesome, now let me see the picture again," Kuroo reached out and tried to steal the phone._ _

__"No wait, I haven't sent it yet-"_ _

__Bokuto tried to stop him but the taller boy tackled him to the floor. Kuroo's arm stretched out in an attempt to seize the phone, but Bokuto was faster. He pushed him back and desperately tried to hit 'send', and he would've made it if a pair of hands hadn't grabbed him by the back of his shirt. The phone slipped out of his hands and Kuroo hastily threw himself trying to catch it mid-air, but failed. The device fell through his fingers, right into Bokuto's outstretched arms. He quickly sent the picture and tossed the phone to his friend._ _

__"There, moron. I could have accidentaly sent it to someone else."_ _

__Kuroo grinned. He was about to exit the texting app, when suddenly, he froze. He stared dumbfounded at something on the screen and Oikawa could feel the panic rising._ _

__"What? What are you looking at?"_ _

__"Uh, Hanamaki isn't really the only person he sent the picture to."_ _

__"Give me that!" he snatched the phone from Kuroo's hands. Bokuto and Terushima peeked at the screen from behind him. They both gasped as Kuroo's lips curled up in a little evil smile. Oikawa's expression was entirely blank. He stared at the screen completely emotionless, not a single wrinkle disrupting his calm figure._ _

__Unfortunately, he was in fact not calm. On the inside, he could feel each and every single one of his internal organs spontaneously combusting._ _

__He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. He then opened them again, as if the situation would have mercy on him and adjust to a more pleasant setting, but the second name was still there._ _

___Ushijima Wakatoshi._ _ _


	2. The Day After

The sound of the alarm pierced the morning air.

Iwaizumi lazily swung his arm over his head, searching blindly for his phone. He grabbed it from the nightstand and squinted at the bright screen, his vision still drowsy from sleeping. It was 6:40 and he still had ten minutes until he had to get up and prepare for school. He sighed, ready to turn around and crawl back under the bedsheets, when a notification caught his eye. He blinked, trying to focus his eyes. 32 new text messages from Hanamaki. _What the hell?_

He propped himself on his elbow and unlocked his phone. Still frowning, he opened the chat.

_Makki: Oh my god_

_Makki: You HAVE to see this_

_Makki: What the hell what the ehell what the hell what sskdlsakdsj_

_Makki: Did you know about this???_

_Makki: [picture file]_

_Makki: Wake up right now or i swear to godddd_

Iwaizumi opened the picture and his heart skipped a beat. He ignored the rest of Hanamaki’s spamming and stared at the blurry photo of two boys making out, one of which was undoubtedly Oikawa Tooru. The other boy (Iwaizumi couldn’t make out much of him except for the fact that he had blonde hair) was holding Oikawa’s face and pulling their waists closer. 

Iwaizumi didn’t know how he felt. Something inside his stomach dropped and he closed his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. Oikawa liked attention and Iwaizumi knew he had a fair deal of hook-ups before - and he never considered it any of his business. But seeing him like this, in another man’s arms, with his eyes shut and hair sticking to his forehead, it made him feel utterly helpless. A small spark of jelaousy jabbed his chest. That could have been _him._

_No_ , he thought. _If this makes him happy, I’d be a dick to try and take it away from him._ Despite that, he couldn’t bear to look at the blond guy pinning Oikawa to the wall anymore. He turned off his phone and his gaze fell to the window. The first spots of sunlight skimmed the rooftops as the last traces of morning haze disappeared. Birds were chirping on the closest power line and somewhere near a car drove by. It was a beautiful day, Iwaizumi thought sadly. A conversation he recently had with Hanamaki crossed his mind. 

_“Excuse me, how long again???”_

_“Two years ago, now shut the hell up, Makki,” Iwaizumi growled and shoved his hands into his pockets. He was beginning to think this wasn’t the best idea._

_Hanamaki’s mouth was still open in disbelief. “And you never tried asking him out?!”_

_“It’s not that simple!” Iwaizumi shouted. “It’s complicated. He’s complicated.”_

_“It is not complicated! Just ask him out. Everyone and their mother knows that Oikawa’s been pining for you since, like, forever.”_

_“You’re just saying that so you can have something to talk about with Mattsun once he rejects me.”_

_“Iwaizumi, I am serious,” Hanamaki crossed his arms._

_“Yeah, well so am I.”_

_They turned around the corner and continued to walk through the dimly lit street. They just finished an evening practice and since Oikawa was sick, Iwaizumi decided to accompany Hanamaki on his way home._

_“Does anybody else know?”_

_“No, you’re the only one.”_

_Hanamaki stopped in his tracks. “Iwa, you have to promise me you’ll ask him out.”_

_Iwaizumi kicked a nearby rock. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about this.”_

_“Please, it is obvious he’s in love with you. His eyes go all round and lovey-dovey when he’s around you, it’s disgusting.”_

_“Your eyes go all round and lovey-dovey when you see a meat-bun but that doesn’t mean you wanna fuck it. At least I hope so. Besides, he hooks up with people constantly.”_

_“Yes, but those are just hook ups,” Hanamaki groaned. “They don’t mean anything.”_

_“Well, I don’t want to be just a hook up.”_

_Hanamaki fell silent. They walked for another minute or so, when they came to a zebra crossing. The traffic lights were casting a green light, but Hanamaki didn’t move._

_“Please, I’m not even joking about this. Just try and ask him out. You’ll save yourself a lot of pain.”_

_Iwaizumi sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t risk it. He’s so much more to me than just a stupid crush. We knew each other since we were kids and he is my best friend, and as much as I’d like to date him, I could never forgive myself if I ruined what we have right now. It’s better not to love him at all than to lose him over my selfishness.”_

Iwaizumi forced himself into a sitting position, leaning his elbows on his knees, and ruffled his hair in frustration. He changed his mind. It was a horrible day and Iwaizumi didn’t feel like doing anything.

***

Oikawa practically slammed open the door to his class. He earned himself a couple of shocked looks from his classmates but he disregarded them completely. He flung himself onto his chair and started taking out his notebooks, clearly aggravated. He hadn’t slept much that night. The dark circles under his eyes and the constant yawning were a clear reminder of that. As soon as he saw Ushijima’s name on the screen he lost it. He threw all three of his companions out of his house and stared at his living room wall for a solid 15 minutes. Out of all the people Bokuto could’ve accidentaly clicked it had to be Ushijima Wakatoshi. He wasn’t even mad, just incredibly irritated. He’s been ignoring Kuroo’s and Bokuto’s texts since the incident (Bokuto was apologizing like crazy, but all Kuroo was doing was retelling the whole thing again and pointing out just how devastatingly hilarious his face was upon seeing the screen), not because he was angry at them, but because he wanted to avoid thinking about yesterday night for as long as possible.

“Hey man, you alright? You look tired,” Matsukawa leaned on his desk. His voice sounded concerned, but his eyes seemed smug, and Oikawa could tell that he thought he knew the reason behind his fatigue. Behind him Hanamaki grinned. Oikawa wasn’t having any of it. 

“To hell with both of you.”

Matsukawa enthusiastically slapped his back. “Cheer up, captain. We don’t want you slacking at practice today.”

Oikawa was about to add a sarcastic remark but someone else caught his attention. The door opened as a certain black-haired boy entered, and he seemed just as agitated as Oikawa was. For a split second his heart fluttered. 

“Hey Iwa-chan,” he waved hoping to sound as natural as possible. He was looking closely at Iwaizumi’s expression, trying to notice what lied behind his sour facade. Could it really be that Kuroo was right and that Iwaizumi was jealous?

“Hey.” Iwaizumi didn’t look at him. 

Oikawa stared at him dumbfounded. _What the hell does this mean?_

“What, Trashykawa, I have something on my face?” his head turned and his eyes met Oikawa’s. He was just as snappy as usual, Oikawa thought, and something in his voice told Oikawa his anger wasn’t directed at him.

“Nothing, you just look irritated.”

“Yeah, cause the first thing I see when I walk in here is your face.”

Oikawa couldn’t help but smile. “That’s mean.” Iwaizumi was acting normal towards him and Oikawa didn’t know whether he should feel relieved or stressed.

However, it was obvious that something was bothering him. Oikawa could see it in his distant stare and the way his eyebrows were slightly lowered.

“Seriously, what is it with you staring today?” Iwaizumi turned back to him again.

“Oh nothing, I’m just captivated by your ethereal beauty, as usual.”

Iwaizumi suddenly shot up, pushing the desk and causing it to screech loudly. He violently pushed it back into place and left, mumbling something about going to the bathroom. Oikawa was taken aback by his reaction. He was expecting to get a usual annoyed look or a couple of insults, but this was different. Even Hanamaki and Matsukawa looked surprised. Oikawa turned back to the front. Kuroo and Bokuto told him Iwaizumi would act strange, but instead of feeling better about it, he felt more miserable than ever. He glanced at the clock. Class was about to start soon. He lied down onto the desk, completely unaware of Hanamakki’s disapproving stare. 

***

Iwaizumi was the first to leave class after school ended. Oikawa was the last. Him and Iwaizumi didn’t talk at all despite Oikawa apologizing and attempting to make small talk. He desperately hoped practice would help him clear his head and pick up his spirit again. 

With a frustrated sigh he left the classroom and was headed for the gymnasium.

“Hey, Oikawa!”

Oikawa winced, turning around. Hanamaki was approaching him from the bathrooms. “Hey.”

“Is everything okay? I don’t want to be nosy, but both you and Iwaizumi seemed tense today.”

“No, nothing happened,” the two boys continued walking together. “I don’t know why was he so pissed today.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t flirt with everything that walks,” Hanamaki said carefully.

Oikawa looked at him genuinely confused. “What do you mean? I don’t flirt with anyone except Iwa-chan. Also, I haven’t hooked up with anyone for almost a year and a half. I stopped doing that after I…” he held back. _After I realized I was in love with him_ , he thought. “After I realized I wanted a serious relationship.”

Hanamaki stopped in his tracks. He gave Oikawa the dirtiest, most unimpressed look, and Oikawa immediately realized he made a mistake. “Are you actually kidding me right now?”

“What?” Oikawa squeaked, trying to act oblivious to the fact that _he_ knows that _Hanamaki_ knows about yesterday. 

“I don’t know if you know, but there’s a certain picture going around.”

Oikawa let out the weakest ‘oh’. He had never been a good liar.

“I got it from someone yesterday and they said not to show anyone. I don’t wanna make you panic or anything, but I figured you should know.” He pulled out his phone and showed Oikawa the picture he very willingly participated in making.

“Oh, that,” he laughed nervously. “Yeah, but that was, uh, different. We didn’t have sex or anything, we were at a party and I was drunk and we made out for a bit, but that’s all, I swear.”

Hanamaki shrugged. “I literally couldn’t care less. But if you really want a serious relationship maybe you should tone down a bit your hoeing around.” He lightly pushed his shoulder, showing that it was just a playful remark, but Oikawa took it to heart. _Oh my god, I am such an idiot._ He didn’t think this through at all. Jealous or not, Iwaizumi, like any other normal person, wouldn’t want to date someone who hoes around like that. 

“Does… does anyone else know? About the picture.”

Hanamaki hesitated. He wasn’t exactly proud that he forwarded it to everyone on the team the exact moment he recieved it. “Uh, just Matsukawa.”

Oikawa nodded. 

“And Iwaizumi,” he added. He didn’t want to snitch on his friend - he knew very well why he was so distracted today - but at the same time he wanted Oikawa to pick up the hint and realize how Iwaizumi feels about him.

Oikawa’s heart fluttered at the mention of his name. “Right.” They entered the gymnasium.

Twenty minutes later, they were on the court, Oikawa positioned parallel to the net and tossing the ball to the attackers. It was just a simple drill - atfer each hitter hit the ball, he’d cross to the other side and recieve the next spike. They were just starting to play and Oikawa had already missed the first three tosses. He kept apologizing to his teammates, convincing both them and himself that he just needed to warm up a bit, but he knew he that was a lie. He knew he wouldn’t be able to play well from the moment he picked up a volleyball - it was one of those days when it just didn’t feel right in his hands, when his game sense was completely off. He had just apologized to Kindaichi for setting too high, when he saw who was next. His eyes collided with Iwaizumi’s and he shuddered. _This will be a great spike._ Iwaizumi never missed his tosses, no matter how bad they were.

The ball bounced off of Oikawa’s fingers and his eyes lit up - this was a good set. Iwaizumi swung his arms and jumped, his hand coming closer and closer to the ball. 

He missed. 

His fingers barely grazed the ball, making it cross the net by a whisker. Oikawa was stunned. He watched as the spiker lifted the net, cursing under his breath. If he really was the reason for Iwaizumi’s weird behaviour, then he didn’t know whether he should feel flattered or just plain stupid. Kuroo and Bokuto’s damn jealousy nonsense wasn’t worth anything if his best friend became completely unrecognizable. He turned around and prepared for the next set.

The training lasted forever, or so it seemed to Oikawa. Him and Iwaizumi were so uncoordinated today that it was terrifying. His tosses had never been worse and he lost count of how many times he had bowed down and said sorry. His teammates kept telling him to forget it but he couldn’t bring himself to listen. Deep down he felt a familiar sting of fear. The spring tournament was coming soon and if he didn’t snap out of this, if he _failed_ , then he would never be able to forgive himself.

“Alright,” coach Irihata said to the team, “today wasn’t your best day. But it didn’t have to be. We still have plenty more practices until the tournament so don’t get discouraged. I will try to arrange a practice match soon so you can see how your new techniques work in a real match and what else we have to work on. Don’t worry about today. I advise you to go home, have a good meal and rest a little. Tomorrow will be a new day.”

 _It will_ , Oikawa thought. He didn’t know what it would bring, but he hoped that he would somehow be closer to getting himself out of this mess. He changed in the locker room but when he was finished, Iwaizumi had already left. He said goodbye to Kunimi and Yahaba and made his way out of the gymnasium, alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear the next chapter is more light-hearted. Also I should probably mention that English isn't my first language so I'm sorry if there are some mistakes in the text (the goddamnd verb tenses are a pain in the ass).   
> But yeah lol thank you for reading! :)


	3. Empty Gyms and Electric Touches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, chapter 3, aka me abusing wordhippo.com trying to find a different way to say "jab of pain"

Iwaizumi Hajime was oftentimes impulsive, but he wasn’t the type to easily make blatant errors. Nevertheless, he was now in his room, sitting on his chair facing the last two people on Earth he should be facing. Telling Matsukawa about his crush on Oikawa was probably the second biggest mistake he’d ever made, the first one being telling the same to Hanamaki.

“Dude, out of all the fine men on the team you chose his flat ass??”

“Right?!” Hanamaki joined enthusiastically. “I was shocked too when he told me! I mean it was obvious Oikawa was into him, but  _ him  _ liking him back? I would have never guessed! He told me everything one night when we were coming home from practice and-”

“I honestly wasn’t even sure if Oikawa was gay.”

“What are you  _ talking  _ about??? Oikawa is literally the gayest person I know. I thought we agreed on this.”

Matsukawa squirmed. “ _ Is _ he though? He keeps around way too many fangirls all the time. They don’t seem to annoy him or anything, I always see him taking pictures with them, chatting and all that stuff.”

“He’s gay, trust me, he just likes the attention. Anyways, what was I saying - so yeah on our way home he kept telling me that Oikawa would never love him and that he would die alone, a shrunken shell of a man whose true love couldn’t love him back, to which I obviously responded by telling him that Oikawa was deeply in love with him and that he should muster the courage to ask him out, but then he said something about fucking meat-buns which took me completely off-guard and, honestly, since then I couldn’t stop thinking-”

“That’s not how it happened,” Iwaizumi said, staring into his floorboards, his head buried deep into his hands.

“Oh don’t you  _ dare  _ call me a liar!” Hanamaki pointed a finger at him. “I remember exactly what you said-”

Iwaizumi lifted his head excruciatingly slow, just to direct his fed up stare at Hanamaki. The boy instantly fell silent.

Matsukawa’s confused stare kept jumping from one boy to another. “Wait, what exactly about fucking meat-buns?” he tried to continue the conversation but neither of them responded.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you two have any advice at all or are you gonna keep screwing around?”

Hanamaki propped a pillow under his chin. “Right. I still think you should ask him out.”

“He literally slept with a random guy yesterday.”

“First of all, he told me that he didn’t sleep with him, they just made out. Second of all, he also flirted with you this morning so that’s something.”

“That’s the worst part!” Iwaizumi yelled. “I hate that he is like this! He goes around and gets it on with whoever he wants but then tomorrow he flirts with me without batting an eye. I don’t want to be someone who he comes up to only after he’s done banging everybody else.”

Matsukawa rolled to the end of the bed, grabbing something from his bag. “That sucks man. I never thought of it that way.”

“Come on, he’s not  _ that  _ slutty,” Hanamaki frowned, glancing at what Matsukawa was doing. “He used to be quite, uh,  _ popular  _ before, but that was almost two years ago. He told me he wanted a serious relationship now.”

“I’m sorry, when did you guys talk?” Matsukawa opened a bag of chips.

“Give me one. Before practice. He seemed pretty serious.”

“He doesn’t know what he wants,” Iwaizumi groaned, leaning back into his chair. “He says something like that and then pulls off shit like this.”

“Listen, I don’t want to sound bitchy, but he probably wouldn’t have done that if you’d asked him out,” Hanamakki raised his eyebrows suggestively. “You can’t get mad at him for kissing people when you two aren’t even together to begin with.”

Iwaizumi sighed. He knew that very well.

At that very moment, just five minutes away from Iwaizumi’s house, another boy was discussing a similar problem.

“No, Kuroo…” Oikawa threw his arms up in frustration, holding his phone with his shoulder. “I mean he was definitely acting stranger than usual but-”

“That’s a good sign, you dumbass,” Kuroo’s voice came through the speakers. “That means he’s affected by the fact that you kissed somebody else.”

“But it doesn’t even have to be that, I mean he could’ve been angry about anything.”

“I doubt it, that would be a huge coincidence. Besides, that Makki guy told you he saw the picture, right? I don’t see what are you worried about, this is all coming together as we planned. He’s head over heels in love with you, babe.”

“I don’t want him to be head over heels in love with me,” Oikawa flung himself onto his bed. “I want him to be Iwaizumi. I mean he was even awful at practice today, and I didn’t get the chance to ask him what was wrong because he kind of avoided me and-”

“Hold up, hold up, hold up. So you’re telling me he saw that picture, was mysteriously angry today, played terribly at practice, and didn’t want to talk to you?”

“Yes, exactly!” Oikawa exclaimed hopelessly. There was a long pause on the other end.

“Oikawa Tooru, you are so fucking dumb.”

“What, why-”

“He likes you, you useless gay, and it’s so obvious it is physically hurting me.”

“I don’t know-”

“No, but I do, let me explain it to you nice and simple. He. Likes you. You twink.”

“If he liked me then he could have already asked me out! We’re close and he knows I’m gay and I’ve been flirting with him since middle school and-”

“Then both of you are idiots! It’s just a matter of time before one of you slips up and confesses. And once you do, both of you will be like ‘oh haha we were so dumb, I wish I told you earlier’ and honestly I’m just waiting for that moment so I can shove this exact conversation in your face.”

Oikawa had had enough. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to talk to you about this at all.”

“Fine, fine. And have you perhaps changed your mind about not wanting to know what Ushijima replied?”

“No, absolutely fucking not,” Oikawa could hear Kuroo snickering.

“Bokuto sent me the screenshot, it is so fucking funny-”

“I swear to god if you mention him or that stupid meme again I will take a train to Tokyo and break your knees.” Just before he called him, Kuroo sent Oikawa a different version of the picture they took yesterday. Instead of Terushima, this one had Ushijima’s badly cropped out face plastered over. Kuroo found it inexplicably funny, especially considering the Incident.

“I’m sorry, but the meme is god-tier. Everyone found it hilarious except you and Kenma.”

“What the  _ fuck  _ do you mean ‘everybody’???”

“Relax, I was only talking about a couple of guys on our team. Yamamoto stole my phone and found it in the gallery and I guess he kinda showed it to everyone, yikes.”

“ _ ’Yikes’ _ ??? What the hell Kuroo, do they even know-”

“No, they don’t know the context. That makes it infinitely funnier, though.”

Oikawa wanted to scream.

***

It’s been a week since the picture incident and Oikawa was feeling a sense of panic creeping upon him. Iwaizumi started acting natural the very next day as if nothing ever happened. He even apologised for being so weird, saying he didn’t get enough sleep that night and was a little more tense than usual. And just like that, everything went back to normal again. They talked in class, hung out with the other third-years during break time, walked home together and Iwaizumi insulted him just as generously as before. In other words, he seemed completely unfazed, whereas Oikawa was a total mess. Whenever he was around Iwaizumi, he felt as if he was walking on eggshells. He had a weird feeling that Iwaizumi could read him like an open book, tell that something was off; which was unnerving since Oikawa himself couldn’t tell when he was acting strange or not. It was as if every time they looked at each other, Iwaizumi’s gaze would hesitate for the slightest bit, examining his expression and desperately searching for something. There was a foreign glint in his eyes, something Oikawa was convinced only he’d noticed, but he couldn’t yet understand what was going on behind it.

It didn’t help that Oikawa was practically touch-starved too. Every time their hands accidentally touched, he felt his heart flutter, shivers immediately shooting down his spine. He couldn’t recall when was the last time he was this sensitive to a mere touch. The other day, Iwaizumi came by his place to help him with physics homework, and when he bent down to pick up an eraser, his hand unintentionally brushed against Oikawa’s leg. His face was flushing so badly he had to awkwardly get up and leave for the bathroom. His entire body was on system overload; he was frantically splashing himself with cold water, trying to ignore just how tight his pants had gotten. He kept staring at the goosebumps on his arms that wouldn’t leave for a full five minutes and wondering what the fuck was wrong with him. He decided that from now on he should probably avoid any physical contact with him because for all he knew if Iwaizumi accidentally stepped on him he would get straight up electrocuted.

But Oikawa’s love life was not his only concern. It seemed to him that his tossing was getting worse with each day. What was once exceptional about him was now painfully average. The pressure of the upcoming tournament had taken its toll and Oikawa could feel himself getting more and more frustrated. And although he spoke to the coach and asked his teammates to tell him when the toss was bad, they all insisted that he was being too hard on himself and that his tossing was as good as ever.

Oikawa didn’t believe them.

Every time a spike went out or was completely blocked, he blamed it on himself. After all, it was he who guided the attack, and if he wasn’t good enough to provide a toss that could guarantee a winning spike - he wasn’t good  _ enough _ . It was his job to give the attacker a perfect chance to score, to bring out their full potential and lead their team to victory. If he couldn’t do that, he wasn’t an adequate setter, and the thought of that terrified him to the core.

He devoted his entire life to volleyball. If he wasn’t good at it, he wasn’t good at anything.

It was a Wednesday evening and the practice had just finished. Coach Irihata clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention and called them to the benches.

“Good work, everybody. I am very proud of your progress so far and it is evident that you are growing stronger and developing new tactics with each day. There are a couple more things we need to go through, but that’s all. Your work will not go to waste, trust me.” He smiled. “This year we will go to the nationals.”

The team cheered. Everyone received a passionate slap on the back by Matsukawa and once the shouting and laughter died down, the coach continued.

“Having that said, I have an announcement to make. I arranged a practice match for tomorrow. We are playing against Johzenji High.”

Oikawa’s heart skipped a beat.

“Against that party team?” someone blurted out. “I don’t want to be disrespectful, but they aren’t really in our league.”

A few people giggled, but everyone knew it was true. It seemed as if the idea of playing against Johzenji amused all of them. Well, all of them except Oikawa, as his expression was the only sullen one.

“Don’t underestimate them,” Irihata’s voice was serious. “Once you underestimate your opponent you’ve lost half the battle. They were once very powerful, and although today they lack technique, they are still one of the most unpredictable teams out there.”

Soon after that, the practice was dismissed, and everyone except Oikawa was headed towards the locker room.

“Coach, I was wondering if I could stay for a little bit more? I’ll lock everything up, I just wanted to practice my serve since I felt like I couldn’t really get the hang of it today,” he quickly bowed down. The coach sighed.

“I appreciate your dedication, Oikawa, but I don’t think it would be best for you right now. You are pushing yourself too hard,” he said gently, his eyes filled with concern. “I’m worried you will hurt your knee again, and after that, there may be no coming back. Injuries like that can be fatal even for professional players.”

“I know, coach, I understand what you’re saying, but I promise I won’t do anything stupid. It won’t be longer than fifteen minutes and I’ll practise my aiming, not strength,” Oikawa joined his hands in a pleading manner, trying to stop his voice from trembling.

Irihata didn’t say anything and for a second Oikawa thought he was being too pushy and had come out as disrespectful or rude.

“Fine,” the older man let out a deep breath. “But don’t stay for too long.”

Oikawa energetically bowed again, apologizing for the inconvenience he’d caused. He waited until the gym was empty and then pushed the volleyball cart to the serving line. The air in the gymnasium was etched with silence, and Oikawa almost felt as if he shouldn’t be there, breaking it so impolitely with his footsteps and the sound of the cart rolling. School had finished long ago so he had the whole place for himself.

He took a volleyball and slammed it on the floor a few times, taking in the powerful sound it produced. He took a few steps back, threw the ball, and pounced, hitting it with such force it collided with the opposite wall. He cursed, returning to his initial position. A small sting of pain pierced his knee and the words of his coach came into his mind. _ I’m not overworking myself _ , he thought stubbornly.  _ This is normal, a little pain is normal. Who would I be _ , he threw the ball again,  _ if I gave up so quickly? _ He struck the ball. This time it hit the edge of the net, flopping onto the other side clumsily.

“Shit,” he violently grabbed another ball, determined to ignore what was now an evident throbbing in his knee. The worst thing about his injury was that it seemingly came out of nowhere. He didn’t fall on his knee, he never hit it anywhere, it sort of came by itself during his first year at Aobajohsai, just before the tournament. At first he brushed it off as a temporary strain, but after two months he started getting concerned. The doctor told him it wasn’t an impact injury, just a result of a temporary burn out, and that he should probably avoid volleyball until the pain stopped. He listened, although unwillingly, and returned to his team after another two months. But the truth was that the pain never really stopped, it just toned down and appeared randomly every couple of weeks. It was practically insignificant and Oikawa learned not to be bothered with it, but there were days when couldn’t hide his limping so easily.

Another ball crossed the net. And another one. They kept going out, one after another. He was trying to catch his breath, his hands gripping the sides of the volleyball cart for support. The pain in his right leg was getting worse and every inch of his body was telling him to stop.

_ Just one more. _

Oikawa threw the ball in the air, his eyes brows lowered in concentration. He swung his arms and jumped. His hand collided with the ball and sent it flying right onto the line. His eyes widened.  _ That would’ve been an ace _ . But as soon as he landed on the ground, the force of impact caused an intense stab of pain to pierce his knee. Completely unprepared for the sharp sensation, he stumbled and fell on the floor with a loud thud.

“Oikawa? Is everything okay?” Iwaizumi’s head popped up from behind the door. As soon as he saw Oikawa’s face grimacing in pain he dropped his bag and rushed to his side.

“I’m fine,” Oikawa quickly responded trying to get up, embarrassment visible on his face. He felt another sting of pain in his leg and gave up, instead settling for sitting down on the floor. “What are you doing here? I thought everyone was already gone.”

“I left my earphones in the locker room and then I heard  _ someone  _ maniacally hitting the ball here. Your serves could wake up a whole neighbourhood.”

Oikawa snorted. “Well, too bad they can’t fucking go inside the court.”

Iwaizumi carefully crouched and sat down with him, bringing his knees up to his chin. He remained silent for another moment. “Is it the knee again?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa said quietly.

“You are overworking yourself.”

“I am not!” he hit his thigh in frustration. “It’s the opposite - I’m not practising enough. I  _ know  _ I can play better than this, I just have to work for it. Saying my knee hurts is just an excuse - if others can play stronger then so can I.”

Iwaizumi continued watching his best friend ramble. It was normal for Oikawa to get tense before important matches, the pressure would make his perfectionism reach its peak. It wasn’t that Iwaizumi didn’t care about volleyball, he wanted to win just as desperately, but Oikawa’s determination was sometimes borderline madness. He took it personally, and Iwaizumi could understand that - the frustration of always being second-best, excelling at what you do, but never excelling enough to make it to the top. Still, he didn’t want to see his friend like this, so invested that he was hurting himself in the process.

“- and all I must do is just practice. It’s so simple but so unfair because sometimes it seems as if others don’t have to work at all and they can do all these amazing things. But I promise you, I will improve and we will beat Shiratorizawa and make it to the nationals, after all, it’s our last year, we have to-”

“Screw the nationals!” Iwaizumi suddenly yelled. “We won’t go anywhere if you fuck up your knee again. You don’t know how to take care of yourself - you don’t know when to  _ stop _ . For fuck’s sake, a competition is not more important than your health. Giving it all does not mean beating yourself up over and over again at every practice. At that point you aren’t giving it all, you’re just injuring yourself, Tooru.” Oikawa lifted his head, meeting Iwaizumi’s pleading look. “Please. Give yourself a break.”

“I can deal with the pain,” he mumbled but he knew Iwaizumi was right.

“No you can’t,” he said softly. He pushed himself back into a crouch and stood up. “And that’s okay. You’re not a machine, you’re human. If you can’t tell yourself when it’s enough, then I’ll do it. Come on now, get up.” He extended his arm towards Oikawa. The brown-haired boy seemed reluctant, but grabbed his hand. Iwaizumi roughly pulled him up, and Oikawa almost fell back down again, both from the pain in his leg and the sudden electric feeling going up his arm.

“You can walk, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can,” Oikawa quickly pulled his hand out of Iwaizumi’s before he could notice just how flustered he was getting.

They picked up the volleyballs he had served and turned off the lights. Oikawa locked the door and they stepped out into the cold night. A few clouds were scattered across the sky, the moonlight outlining some of them with a silverish shine. Oikawa took a deep breath. The air smelled of thunderstorms and freshly cut grass, a faint scent of smoke finding its way into the mix as well. Spring was on its way.

They started walking home together, talking and arguing about stupid things, just like they always did. All the previous tension was completely gone - there was a certain aura of calmness around them, and for a split second Oikawa forgot everything that occupied his mind this week. He was getting lost in the sound of Iwaizumi’s voice, unaware of how peaceful it made him feel. It was just a simple conversation, a few cheeky remarks and twice as many laughs, but Oikawa wouldn’t have had it any other way.


	4. Of Stars, Salsa, and Christopher Columbus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this is kind of a filler chapter that I came up with last-minute to regulate the pacing, but nevertheless it was probably my favourite one to write until now. So yeah, I hope you'll enjoy! ^^

Oikawa’s house was just a couple of footsteps away. Two boys stepped under the streetlamp light and stopped in front of the garden door. It was almost 11 pm; they had been walking for 20 minutes, their worries and cares long gone under the cold moonlight. Oikawa opened the door and stepped aside, waiting for Iwaizumi to come in. The black-haired boy shifted his weight from one foot to another.

“Thanks, Oikawa, but I should probably leave.” He scratched the back of his head and Oikawa couldn’t help but notice how pretty he looked under the soft yellow light.

“Come on, stay a little more,” he whined, resting his chin on the door.

“We have a practice match tomorrow morning, dumbass,” Iwaizumi gave him a tired smile. “You have to rest.”

“ _Please_ , Iwa-chan. Look, all the lights are out,” he pointed at his house. “My parents are already sleeping so let’s just sit on the swings and talk for a while.” He pouted. Iwaizumi sent him a warning glare.

“Ten minutes and that’s it,” he walked in and carefully closed the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. He followed Oikawa to a pair of swings in his yard. Oikawa’s parents bought them when they were five and the two boys spent countless afternoons playing on them and running around. As they grew up and the swings became too small, they started playing volleyball over the wooden beam.

Iwaizumi put his bag on the grass and sat on the swing, his knees bent awkwardly high. Oikawa looked at him as if he was an idiot.

“What?”

“Why are you sitting like that?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a seventeen-year-old and this was built for a child, Shittykawa.”

“Well just flip it over.” Oikawa lifted his swing seat and pushed it over the beam, causing the chains to tumble loudly onto the other side. Iwaizumi cringed, certain that the loud noise had woken up everyone in their close vicinity. But the trick seemed to have worked, and Oikawa elegantly slumped onto the now elevated swing. Iwaizumi huffed, doing the same thing (although a lot more quietly).

“What were we talking about?” Oikawa lazily pushed the ground, letting himself glide through the cold air.

“I don’t know. I forgot.” Their voices echoed through the empty street. Apart from the soft creaking of the chains and a faint sound of cars driving in the distance, everything was silent. All the sparrows and crickets were asleep, families in their homes, preparing for the start of a new day, and the usual kids’ chatter and screaming had faded away hours ago. They were truly alone at that moment, and Oikawa felt as if they had the whole world for themselves. He tilted his head and leaned back on his swing, looking at the night sky above them. It was speckled with stars, their shine interrupted only by a few small clouds, and Oikawa felt his heart flutter at the wonderful sight. Ever since he was a child he was overwhelmed by the endless blackness of the night sky; he used to count the stars and imagine all different kinds of aliens that could be inhabiting them, but what now stunned him the most was his own insignificance. He started realising how small he was, how small _everything_ was compared to the vast outer space. It usually made him feel helpless, even anxious, but now, when Iwaizumi was sitting by his side, he felt only bittersweet peace.

“What was the last thing you dreamed about, Iwa-chan?” he asked, his eyes still reflecting the stars.

“You.”

Oikawa nearly jumped, his head shooting in Iwaizumi’s direction. Feeling a blush creeping up on his cheeks, he thanked the horrifying massiveness of space and the badly lit streetlamp for leaving them in semi-darkness. “Me?”

“I mean not just you,” he shrugged, looking at his shoes. “I was there too.”

Oikawa’s heart was pounding in his chest. “Just the two of us?” He felt as if he was in some corny teenage romance movie. Iwaizumi will now tell him about his romantic dream, dramatically confess his love, and ask him out, and Oikawa will be a blushing mess but still shyly accept his proposal, and then Iwaizumi’s beautiful strong arms will pull him into-

“And Christopher Columbus.”

Oikawa’s mind snapped back to reality. “What?”

Iwaizumi snorted, oblivious to Oikawa’s dumbfounded expression. “Yeah, it was a weird dream. We were on some kind of an exotic island and you got lost so I had to find a way to bring you back. I went to Google Maps and typed in Christopher Columbus because I thought he could help me find you, since he’s an explorer and everything _but_ there was no Christopher Columbus, because he’s dead. Instead, I found his grand-grand-grand-grand-grandson Chris Columbus who didn’t look anything like his ancestor; he reminded me of one of those weird surfer-dads: he wore a crappy Hawaiian t-shirt, had a long blonde beard and was a crack addict. We went to his boat and we sailed for eight years and I got used to him, he was a nice dude - he even saved me from a volcano once. Then we found an island and got off the boat and then I saw a huge stadium and you were standing in the middle of it, competing for the title of Miss Universe and throwing around peace signs.”

Oikawa felt like an idiot. He took a shaky breath. “Well, that was _something_.”

Iwaizumi hummed. “What’s the last thing _you_ dreamed of?”

“Do you really think I could compete for Miss Universe?”

That earned him a punch in the shoulder.

“Don’t be stupid,” Iwaizumi furrowed his brows but couldn’t hold back a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Oikawa repositioned himself so that he was now facing Iwaizumi (or his shoulder, to be more precise). “The last thing I dreamed off… I think I was talking to my cat or something. I was explaining to him that he needs to go out more, but he refused and told me he didn’t want to hang out with other cats of his gender.”

“Your cat is homophobic.”

“That’s not how homophobia works,” Oikawa kicked a nearby rock. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. “Well, not that you’d know.”

Iwaizumi looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Just that you wouldn’t know how homophobia works.”

“You’re calling me… non-homophobic?”

“I’m calling you straight, Iwaizumi.”

The older boy lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you say it like it’s an insult?”

Oikawa sighed, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s just a stupid meme. Like if you’re gay and someone calls you straight it’s insulting.”

“Oh, okay,” Iwaizumi leaned backwards, letting his hair touch the grass. Oikawa observed the outline of his neck, this new pose effectively making his Adam’s apple pop out.

“So…” he tried not to sound desperate, “are you _insulted_?”

Iwaizumi glanced at him, keeping his position. It _shouldn’t_ have looked hot, people _don’t_ look good from that angle, but god damn it if Oikawa didn’t almost spontaneously evaporate right then and there.

“I’m not gay.”

 _Oh_.

“But I’m not straight either.”

_Oh?_

Oikawa felt cold sweat trickling down his back. “So… like bisexual or something?”

Iwaizumi pulled himself up. “I guess that’s what you’d call it. But I don’t like putting a label on myself. I just know that what I feel is right and that’s enough for me.”

Oikawa looked away, his chest aching with relief. “That’s cool.”

A small silence hovered over them. Oikawa zipped up his jacket as Iwaizumi slowly swung.

“I have a very important question,” Oikawa suddenly announced. “I’ve always wanted to ask you this but I never did since I didn’t know whether you’d feel uncomfortable or not but now that I know you’re not straight, I feel like it’s the right time.” Iwaizumi looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite figure out.

“You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

Oikawa made a dramatic pause. “Is it just me or is that captain from Karasuno stupidly hot?”

Iwaizumi blinked. “The third year with short brown hair?”

“That’s the one.”

“I don’t know. He has nice thighs, I guess.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Kuroo as well. He also has nice legs.”

Oikawa scrunched up his nose at the mention of the Nekoma middle-blocker. “Yeah he does, that bastard.”

“And the Fukurodani captain too.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, keep it in your pants,” he abruptly stopped him, feeling a prick of jealousy.

“You’re the only captain with no ass,” Iwaizumi grinned, watching Oikawa open his mouth in protest.

“Seriously stop it with that, you guys, it’s an overused joke and it’s really getting annoying now. You know it’s my biggest insecurity and you’re willingly using it against me.”

“God, you’re being overdramatic.”

“Besides, you don’t have thick thighs either,” Oikawa mocked him and stuck out his tongue.

“No, but I bet I could bench-press you and Matsukawa together.”

“You could absolutely not.”

“Whatever makes you feel better about yourself.”

“We are digressing too much.”

“Did we even have a topic in the first place?”

“Yes. In fact, I wanted to ask you another question.”

Iwaizumi turned to face Oikawa. “Go ahead.”

“If you had a third ear, where’d you put it?”

“What the _actual fuck_ , Oikawa?”

The said boy shrugged. “I heard that somewhere and I couldn’t get it out of my head ever since.”

“Are we talking a normal-sized ear or?”

“Yes.”

“Would it change anything? Like the way I hear?”

“ _Obviously_ it will, it’s an extra _ear_.”

“Well, I’m _sorry_ I’m having trouble understanding what you mean, it’s just that the concept of a _third ear_ is a bit new to me.”

“What is there not to be understood?? It’s literally _an ear_.”

“If I could, I would replace all my ears right now so I don’t have to listen to your senseless blabbering.”

Oikawa gasped and, yet again, there was silence.

After a while, Iwaizumi muttered: “Probably somewhere on my hand.”

Before he could nod in agreement, a phone buzzed and Oikawa reached into his pocket. He frowned, blinded by the brightness, and opened the chat.

“It’s Kindaichi.”

“Tell him I said he should be asleep.”

“He says that some Fukurodani guy he knows is hosting a party next weekend and that anyone from Seijoh can come. He’s asking if we want to go.”

Iwaizumi shoved his hands into his pockets. “Who’s gonna be there?.”

“I don’t know,” Oikawa shrugged. “Probably some other players from Tokyo.”

“I don’t feel like driving to Tokyo for 3 hours just to hang out with random city boys.”

“It could be fun, though. And I bet Kuroo will also be there so it won’t be that bad.”

“Are you implying that a 3-hour drive is worth spending an entire night looking at Kuroo’s ugly hair?”

“Come on,” Oikawa pouted. “Don’t be a party killer, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi crossed his arms in silence and leaned back on the swing chain as much as he could. He glanced at Oikawa over his eyebrows, threateningly.

“When was the last time you were at a party?” Oikawa continued, determined to get a positive answer from his friend.

“At the end of second year.”

“You mean the one on the last day of school? The one where you and Kyoutani fell out of my window?”

Iwaizumi groaned quietly, unpleasant memories resurfacing to his consciousness.

_He was lying on the ground, his head throbbing with dull pain. His elbows stung like hell and he knew he was awake, but his eyes wouldn’t open themselves._

_“Oh my fucking god,” someone’s footsteps were getting closer and closer. “Oh my fucking god.” It sounded like… Oikawa? He could hear the murmur and the rustling of the leaves as a group of people surrounded him. Someone right next to him grunted._

_“He’s alive, oh my god, he’s alive,” someone’s relieved voice came through._

_“Why do you sound so happy?” another person replied. Yahaba?_

_“I will sock you so hard you’re gonna wish you’re the one who fell from the second floor.” That was_ definitely _Kyoutani._

_“Oh yeah, you wanna go? Try me-”_

_“SHUT THE FUCK UP EVERYONE IWAIZUMI’S STILL NOT MOVING,” Oikawa’s high pitched screaming silenced the havoc. For a few seconds nobody said anything, although Iwaizumi could have sworn he heard a muffled_ Miss Keisha? Miss Keisha? _followed by quiet snickering. Someone kneeled next to him and he felt a warm hand on his shoulder._

_“Iwaizumi? Iwaizumi, are you okay?” Oikawa lightly shook him._

_Before he managed to say anything back, he felt something sharp cautiously poking at his side._

_“PUT THE STICK BACK DOWN, HANAMAKI, HE’S NOT FUCKING DEAD. Jesus Christ, Watari, call the ambulance.”_

“Yeeeah, I can kinda see why you have an aversion towards parties,” Oikawa bit his lip. “But this time I won’t let you go anywhere near windows, I swear, you don’t have to worry.”

“I’m not scared of windows, Oikawa.”

“Well, something is definitely holding you back.”

“And it’s not fucking windows. I already told you, I don’t wanna go if I’m not gonna know anyone.”

“Kuroo and I will be there, as well as the rest of the team.”

“Mm, how appealing.”

“You know, you could at least try to sound friendly,” Oikawa squinted at him. Seeing that Iwaizumi’s expression stayed unchanged, he tried a different approach. “I bet you’re just embarrassed you can’t dance or something.”

Surprisingly, that brought out a smug twinkle in his eyes. His lips curled up in amusement. “Right. I can’t dance.”

Oikawa couldn’t figure out what he meant by that. He searched his face with suspicion, trying to find the answer. “Yes,” he finally responded. “I bet that if you were held at gunpoint and asked to do your best dance, you’d, like, do the floss.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m one hundred percent sure the most you can do is bob your head to the beat.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know, you just don’t seem like a guy who can dance.”

“Right.”

Oikawa shot him a frustrated glare, confusion visible in his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re keeping something from me.”

“Don’t be stupid, of course I’m not.”

“No, I’m serious. You’re not telling me something.”

“I mean, you’re not asking any questions.”

Oikawa angrily crossed his arms, persistent in returning Iwaizumi’s entertained stare. He then raised his arm and pointed a finger-gun at him. “Dance for me.”

Iwaizumi finally burst out laughing. “Like hell I will.”

“I’m dead serious, Iwaizumi. I’m not playing anymore.”

Iwaizumi’s stupid grin still hadn’t left his face as he watched Oikawa with a mixture of amusement and surprise. “I’m not going to dance in front of you in your backyard at 11 pm, Shittykawa.”

“You brought this upon yourself,” Oikawa said ominously, his hand still pointed at Iwaizumi. “Now dance.”

Iwaizumi tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, his eyes piercing Oikawa’s. _This is not hot, this is not hot, I have standards, this is not hot-_ , he repeated the words like a mantra. “If I dance, will you finally stop persuading me to go to the party with you?”

“Yes,” Oikawa said without thinking.

Iwaizumi let out a deep sigh. “Alright then.” He got off the swing and took off his jacket. Oikawa still hadn’t lowered the finger-gun.

“You know, Iwa-chan, you continue to surprise me every day.”

“Drop the finger-guns, I feel stupid.”

“No.”

Iwaizumi clicked his tongue in annoyance and looked down at his feet. “So, I haven’t done this in a long time, but I think I still remember how it goes.” He slowly started moving his legs one in front of another, trying to find the right rhythm. He moved from side to side, the focus being on his footwork, rather than his upper body. Oikawa couldn’t yet figure out what kind of a dance it was. It seemed fast-paced, but he wasn’t jumping or anything - if anything his moves were controlled and refined. _Maybe some kind of Zumba?_ Oikawa thought. _Or more like tango?_ Iwaizumi’s eyes never left the ground, too concentrated on keeping a steady pace to look anywhere else. His movements started getting more and more confident; he picked up the speed and his torso quickly caught up with the tempo of his legs.

Oikawa’s eyes widened in surprise, his hand dropping onto his lap. Iwaizumi was moving gracefully, like he’s been dancing his whole life. His feet were quickly changing direction, spinning and stepping in complicated patterns. His arms were a little floppy, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them, but it didn’t matter - it was perfect. His posture was tall and straight, making his chest stand out, and his hips, _god his hips_ , were moving ever so swiftly. The movement wasn’t excessive, in fact it was quite subtle, but there was something so captivating in the way they swayed and rolled. Oikawa gathered every last ounce of dignity he had to not shamelessly gawk at Iwaizumi’s crotch, but he thanked his peripheral vision _immensely_.

Iwaizumi finished with an elegant double spin. The whole scenario barely lasted more that ten seconds, but Oikawa was so taken aback he didn’t know how to react. He wanted to laugh at the fact that his best friend just did some kind of Latin dance in front of him, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a picture of Iwaizumi’s hips came into his mind and he was shut up instantly.

“What… what was that?”

“I took a salsa course one summer,” he replied simply. “My little sister was scared to go alone so I went with her.”

“Why didn’t I know about that???”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think it was important.”

Oikawa wanted to pull his hair out. “How is that not important?!”

“It’s just salsa.”

“I… I can’t-” he stared at him incredulously. “What the fuckk.”

“If you want to, I can spin you around,” Iwaizumi joked, obviously enjoying Oikawa’s speechless expression. But Oikawa saw his chance, and he wasn’t gonna let it go just like that.

“Yes,” he hurriedly jumped off his swing and started walking towards Iwaizumi.

The black-haired boy quickly raised his hands, starting to back off. “No, wait, I was just kidding-” Before he knew it, Oikawa was forcefully shoving his hand into his own. Their eyes met and Iwaizumi felt his face growing hotter. Oikawa’s gaze softened, and his hand relaxed, fitting Iwaizumi’s almost perfectly. He was looking at him with such kindness, and that foreign glint Oikawa saw before, it was gone now, as if Iwaizumi found whatever he was searching for.

Unsure what else to do, Iwaizumi lifted his hand and gently spun him. Oikawa nearly tripped on his feet, finishing the spin with a clumsy stumble. He let out a nervous laugh, pulling his hand from Iwaizumi’s (he didn’t have to notice just how many goosebumps he had). “I’m sorry. That sucked.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get better at it,” Iwaizumi mumbled, their eyes still locked. Before Oikawa could say anything back, a beeping sound came from Iwaizumi’s bag. Breaking the eye-contact, he went back to the pair of swings and took out the small device.

“Hi, mom,” he answered and there was a pause. “I’m in front of Oikawa’s house. Yes… Yes, I’m coming home in five minutes. Bye.” He sighed and started putting on his jacket. “I have to go.”

Oikawa walked him to the door and they stepped out on the street. Iwaizumi turned to face him and Oikawa didn’t know what to say. Maybe he should kiss him? Was it the right time? Surely it couldn’t have been more romantic than this?

“See you tomorrow, then,” Iwaizumi gave him a half-smile and started turning around.

“No, wait,” Oikawa reached for him, accidentally slamming the door behind them. Panicking, he lifted his hands. “High five?”

Iwaizumi blinked. Carefully, he gave him a small high five, as if he was expecting Oikawa to trick him and punch him afterwards. Realising he wasn’t going to do any of that, he giggled.

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” he squeaked. “See you tomorrow, I guess.” He hastily took a step back and closed the door. Iwaizumi gave him a strange look over the fence.

“Good night, Shittykawa.”

“Good night, Iwa-chan.”

With that, they both turned around and went their own ways. Before he unlocked his front door, Oikawa gasped. “Hey, are you going to that party or not then?” he shouted. There were a couple of seconds of silence, broken only by a distant exasperated sigh.

“Maybe,” Iwaizumi’s annoyed voice came through from the end of the street.

Oikawa grinned. He entered his house followed by the sound of his keys shuffling. Quietly jumping in place, he punched the air with a triumphant _yes_. They were definitely going to that party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are getting longer and longer skjhdkh and I can't stop.  
> (Also I've started reading Killing Stalking and I've never been more invested in a plot that makes me feel so unsettled and disgusted.)  
> (But like as long as he's wearing that black turtleneck Sangwoo can break my legs anytime he wants.)  
> (Disclaimer: I am kidding. I obviously do not support Sangwoo's, uh, lifestyle.)  
> (I should probably stop with the brackets now.)  
> Thank you for reading!


	5. Iwaizumi Is Jealous Again

Iwaizumi slammed open the gym door, trying to catch his breath. He looked around, expecting to see the two teams already lined up, but he was met with an empty court and his teammates sitting on the benches, looking bored. He completely overslept his alarm, waking up almost half an hour later. Luckily he didn’t live far away from his school so he managed to come only ten minutes later than usual. However, he was still expecting to be the last one and had already prepared a lengthy apology for delaying the match. He turned to the benches, still panting and confused.

Hanamaki waved at him while Matsukawa yawned, giving him a nod. Oikawa sent him his usual cheeky smile, but Iwaizumi could see his leg restlessly bouncing. This is just a practice match, why is he nervous? If he overworked himself last night and hurt his knee again…

“Where is Johzenji?” he managed to blurt out, his chest still quickly rising and falling.

“They’re late,” Matsukawa leaned on the wall. “Their coach sent our coach a text saying they’ll be 15 minutes late. And judging by Irihata’s expression he is straight-up not having a good time right now.”

Matsukawa was right - their coach was sulking at his desk wearing a look of mild irritation.

“Thank god, I thought I was gonna get in trouble,” Iwaizumi let out a sigh of relief and plopped down next to Hanamaki.

“Why are you late?” the latter questioned.

“I slept in.”

A mischievous grin snuck up on Hanamaki’s face. “Who kept you awake, Iwaizumi Hajime?”

“Nobody. I came home late because someone didn’t let me leave his house,” he glared at Oikawa. The boy stuck his tongue out.

“You’re making it sound as if I held you hostage, Iwa-chan.” Iwaizumi sent him a deadly stare, both of them oblivious to Matsukawa and Hanamaki exchanging intense looks.

“Come to think of it,” Matsukawa slyly looked at the other boy. “You also seem tired today, Oikawa.”

“I woke up early because of a nightmare,” he replied simply and Iwaizumi couldn’t tell whether he was lying or not. (A/N: Oikawa was, in fact, telling the truth. He had a vivid dream in which he, Iwaizumi, and Cristopher Columbus were holding hands and dancing to La Cucaracha.) He propped his face on his hands. “Are you still coming to my place this afternoon to help me with physics?”

“Yeah, I didn’t forget.”

Kindaichi’s head popped up from the other end of the bench. “So are you guys coming to the party or not?”

“ _ We _ are,” Hanamaki threw an arm around Matsukawa’s shoulder.

“I don’t know-” Iwaizumi started but was cut off by Oikawa’s cheerful voice.

“We are coming as well! Right, Iwa-chan?”

“Don’t be an ass. I said I’ll see.”

“Count us in,” Oikawa sent the younger boy a sweet smile as he gave them an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Before Iwaizumi could’ve objected, a sudden outburst of light invaded the gym. The door had opened.

Coach Irihata stood up from his desk and walked to the front entrance, the look on his face calm and welcoming again. Iwaizumi and the others quickly stood up, following their coach’s example.

There they were - the Johzenji freaks. Their manager stepped in front of them immediately bowing down and apologizing for the inconvenience, but the rest of the team didn’t seem affected at all. They were looking around curiously, taking in the new gym, or looking at the Seijoh players under their eyes. Some of them looked bored out of their minds, standing nonchalantly with their hands in their pockets - one blond boy was even cockily eyeing someone from Iwaizumi’s row-

_ A blond boy? _

Iwaizumi’s heart skipped a beat. Was that him? The boy he saw on with Oikawa? The blond slightly tilted his head and Iwaizumi could see his natural brown locks sticking out under the piss-yellow bird nest that was his hair - just like it did on the picture. He followed his gaze to Oikawa, who was stubbornly looking anywhere but back at him, and everything suddenly fell into place. Oikawa’s nervousness, the boy’s hair, him blatantly staring at Oikawa. It all made sense.

Someone stepped on his foot hard and Iwaizumi furiously turned his head towards Hanamaki, who was wearing the same face of cathartic realization. He quickly spun back, not wanting to get into trouble, but it was too late and the blond’s attention was already directed to him. He was shamelessly checking him out, that pretentious smile still on his face, and it was at that moment precisely that Iwaizumi decided he hated his guts.

It seemed the manager had stopped apologizing and coach Irihata pointed the Johzenji team towards the locker room.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa kept staring at Iwaizumi, their eyes comically wide. He ignored them, instead focusing on Oikawa, who was fidgeting in place and glancing at the clock, his arms crossed. Feeling Iwaizumi’s stare on the nape of his neck, he straightened up and joined them.

“Let’s win this, shall we?” he beamed, his expression just a little too confident to be true.  _ Why is Oikawa avoiding his gaze? Is he embarrassed? Did they have a fight? But the other boy looked so smug. _

Iwaizumi nodded as the Jozhenji players started coming out of the lockers and walking to their side of the court. While the two teams were passing each other, Iwaizumi noticed that blond guy yelling something over his shoulder to one of his teammates. He laughed, not paying attention to where he was going, and was completely unaware he was walking straight into the older boy. Iwaizumi didn’t have time to move, and in all honesty, he didn’t even want to, so he simply slammed his shoulder into him as hard as he could. The blond stumbled, almost losing his balance, and the look on his surprised face sent a wave of sick satisfaction over Iwaizumi. He mustered out a small ‘sorry’ and continued walking without waiting for any kind of response. God, when did he become so petty?

Beside him, Hanamaki was coughing like a maniac, trying to cover his snickering. Luckily, he was the only one who saw anything since the rest of the team walked in front of them.

The two teams finally lined up in front of the serving line, wishing each other a good game, and so the match began.

Oikawa stepped behind the serving line and threw the ball in the air. The ball collided with his palm and zoomed by Iwaizumi’s face by a mere inch, crashing into the net.

“Nevermind,” he turned to Oikawa as Johzenji cheered. “You’ll get the next one.” Oikawa’ shook his head, letting out a deep breath. The look of annoyance was written all over his face but Iwaizumi definitely preferred that over the usual anxiety and self-pity of his.

The cheering had settled and a new service was flying to their side of the court.

“Mine!” Watari received it, sending the ball high into the air as Oikawa took his place by the net. Out of the corner of his eye, Iwaizumi could see that a block was slowly forming, the blond guy intently staring him down, his hands ready by his face. He called out to Oikawa before jumping, already looking for an empty spot on the other side of the net. But as the ball started flying to him, a pair of arms blocked his vision. The moment didn’t last more than a heartbeat and maybe it was just his imagination, but he could have sworn he saw the boy’s mouth twitching, curling up into that stupid grin. A part of him was telling him to aim for the obvious gap in the block, but another part of him, _ a very angry and irrational part _ , decided to completely ignore it. He smashed the ball right through the blond’s fingers so violently that the collision sent a sharp jab of pain through his shoulder. It was a straight block-out.

The look on the other guy’s face was indifferent, he didn’t wince in pain nor look shocked like before, which was incredibly infuriating. Matsukawa slapped him on the back.

“ _ Holy shit _ , that was a nice one.”

“Yeah, I’m really  _ jealous _ of your spiking skills, Iwaizumi,” Hanamaki added with a toothy grin.

“It’s your time to serve,” he brushed off the remark and threw him the ball. Oikawa’s expression was unreadable once more.

***

“Thanks for the match!” Oikawa shouted with the rest of his team. It was a quick match - they won both sets fairly easily with more than a five-point difference, and surprisingly, Oikawa felt better. That morning he woke up with stomach ache, anxious about having to face Terushima. But then again, he realized Terushima did nothing wrong. The entire fiasco was his plan after all. He knew what he was getting into when Kuroo called him that night - so why did he feel so sick? Every time he looked at him his skin would start cringing inside out, and his brain received a grim reminder of that idiotic night.

But he didn’t want to think about it at this moment. He was feeling victorious, a familiar feeling of post-game excitement was pumping through his veins and all he wanted to do was to celebrate with his team. But that rush of emotions was cut off when a certain lemon-head approached him.

“Oikawa! Congrats on the game!” Terushima exclaimed, as the chatter around them slowly died down. “Can I talk to you for a second? In private.”

Oikawa stared at him, his body tensing up. He looked around uncomfortably as if he was expecting his teammates to help him but all he saw were Hanamaki and Matsukawa vigorously nodding behind Terushima, urging him to go. Iwaizumi turned him his back.

“I- uh, yeah?” his voice cracked. “Sure.”

“Awesome!” Terushima smiled and looked at him expectantly.

“Oh, right,” Oikawa put down his water bottle. “We can go to the locker room.”

They left leaving the stunned Seijoh in silence. They entered the room and Oikawa closed the door behind them. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“So I - oh  _ wow _ , what’s with the aggressive stare?”

“Do you realize how stupid this is?” Oikawa hissed. “You better be quick. Literally everyone on my team knows we made out, what do you think this will look like to them?!”

Terushima quickly raised his hands in defence. “Okay, I’m really sorry. I swear I didn’t want to cause any trouble. I just- I don’t know. I feel stupid now, there wasn't anything that important I wanted to tell you, I just wanted to know if we’re… okay?”

Oikawa stared at him speechless. What was he implying? He sounded considerate, there was no way this was some kind of a stupid way of asking him out. “What exactly do you mean?”

Terushima ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I’m not a creep, I understand that what happened wasn’t anything more than making out and I’m not trying to hit on you. I wanted to say that ever since we got here you avoided me and you even seemed mad, so I wanted to know if everything was fine. I know we don’t know each other but, you know, you seem like a nice guy and I guess I didn’t want things to be awkward just because of that one thing. Especially since we’re both friends with Kuroo.”

Oikawa looked down, his eyes softening. He didn’t think Terushima was that nice. Not that he knew much about the boy, but he did hear some gossip last year and even Kuroo warned him that he was a bit of a fuckboy. Suddenly he felt guilt washing over him. “That’s really nice of you,” he stammered. “I’m sorry, I was being childish. I don’t want to make the situation awkward either, I mean it was our idea after all so it would just be stupid.”

Terushima let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you think the same. By the way, how is that plan of yours going?”

The atmosphere changed in an instant and Oikawa wished he had the ability to sound so confident and casual at all times.  _ Damned extroverts. _ “Not that well. Actually, I don’t think it worked at all.” He chuckled, but then last night popped into his mind. “Or maybe it did. I have no idea.”

“Yeah, to be honest when I heard of it I didn’t think it was gonna work either.”

“And you kept your mouth shut?”

“I mean what could’ve I done? Kuroo called me to do my duty, not judge,” he shrugged, his eyebrows arching in a faux-helpless expression.

“Asshole,” Oikawa observed.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Terushima’s eyes twinkled. “The black-haired boy with the number 4? He’s the one you were trying to make jealous in the first place, right?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” Oikawa tilted his head in confusion. “How’d you know?”

“Just a guess but he’s kind of obvious. He was looking at you today a lot when you weren’t paying attention but not in a weird way. And have you seen him spike against my block? He didn’t even try to go around it, he just went right through. And earlier before the match, he slammed his shoulder into me,” Terushima giggled at Oikawa’s dumbfounded stare.

“He did what now?” Oikawa’s mouth fell open.

“You didn’t see it? Man it hurt, there’s no way it was an accident.”

“I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, I guess?”

“It’s fine,” Terushima waved his hand. “It was pretty amusing, actually.”

Before Oikawa could answer, he heard a faint ringing of the school bell in the distance. How long were they inside?

“I have to go. I don’t want my teammates to… get the wrong idea.”

“Of course! Just a second - I was wondering if it would be okay if we exchanged numbers? In case you and Kuroo come up with another great idea.” He grinned but quickly apologized after seeing Oikawa’s murderous stare.

“Don’t ever speak about that again, this is a threat.” He sighed and pulled out his phone entering the digits Terushima gave him. “All fine? Now move, I really need to get going.”

Terushima complied, stepping aside so Oikawa could open the door. “I’m glad we sorted this out. And, by the way,” he gave him his signature smirk, “I can see why you’re so into that guy. With arms like those, I’d willingly let him suffocate me.”

“What?!” Oikawa squeaked, but Terushima was already opening the door. What kind of assumption was that?? He didn’t like Iwaizumi just because of his arms, not that they weren’t so  _ nice _ and  _ toned _ and- goddammit was he blushing again? He left the locker room, suddenly feeling exposed as the cool air collided with his face.

“See you around,” Terushima waved, his shit-eating grin still lingering from before. Oikawa walked up to his team again, very well aware of the stupid redness on his cheeks. Everyone instantly fell silent, seemingly waiting for Oikawa to say something.

“What was that, captain?” Hanamaki decided to break the silence.

“What was what?” Oikawa’s voice became thin. “Oh,  _ him _ ? Nothing, we know each other and he just wanted to, uh, show me something.”

“Whatever you say.”

“C’mon guys, don’t pressure him,” Yahaba intervened. “It was obviously a private matter.”

Oikawa wanted to curl up and sink into a hole.  _ God, please throw a brick and don’t miss me _ , he thought. He knew Yahaba had his best intentions in mind, but he was doing everything but helping at this moment.

“Yeah, well,” Iwaizumi muttered as he shoved past them. “I’m gonna go pack up.” Everyone followed him shortly after, the euphoria slowly washing off. Oikawa entered last, found his bag and started changing.

On the other end of the (relatively big) room, two boys pushed Iwaizumi inside the broom closet, ignoring his protesting.

“Okay, did anyone else see what I saw?” Hanamaki raised his eyebrows uselessly, considering the darkness around them.

“Let me leave. Mattsun get away from the door before I kick you.”

“No, I’m curious too-  _ son of a bitch, Iwaizumi _ !” Matsukawa clutched his knee, jumping on one leg and eventually falling down. A couple of brooms were knocked down in the process.

“Hey, is everything alright in there?” Yahaba’s voice came through from the other side. A small ray of light entered the room while he tried to open it, but Hanamaki quickly stepped in slamming it shut.

“I wanna talk about this,” he said seriously. Iwaizumi couldn’t see him but he assumed he was guarding the door vigilantly.

“Want to talk about what?” he growled.

“Well, about…  _ this _ . What just happened. Do you think they were up to something spicy?”

“It wouldn’t make sense, though,” Matsukawa said thoughtfully. “Why now after the match when everyone’s around and they’re all sweaty and disgusting? Besides, they were only gone for a couple of minutes. It just isn’t worth it, man. Nobody’s that horny, and Oikawa would never settle for something so low.”

“OHOHOHO, but he  _ is _ that horny. He’s Terushima Yuji, he was involved in the Nohebi scandal last year with that snake guy. Anyways, he would  _ definitely _ be down for something like that. I mean come on, did you see his smug face when he came out? Oikawa was stuttering and his face was so red - it’s obvious, they did something in here and I’m gonna find out what.”

“I like gossiping too but that’s just weird. Let them be.”

“It’s not weird if I do it discreetly.”

Matsukawa huffed and the broom closet fell silent.

“Iwaizumi?” Hanamaki asked hesitantly. “What do you think about this?”

For a few moments, there was no reply.

“I think you will find out what a broomstick feels like on your face if you don’t step away from that door.”

“But-”

“We’ll all be late for school. Please, Hanamaki.” There was something tired, almost sad in his voice that took Hanamaki by surprise, and he moved. The room was lit up once again and Iwaizumi left.

“Do you think he’s gonna be okay?” Matsukawa questioned, still on the floor.

“I don’t know. I was so sure Oikawa was into Iwaizumi and now I don’t understand what he’s doing at all.” Hanamaki bit his lip. “It’s really not that serious but I suppose it must be frustrating for Iwaizumi.”

“Frustrating? If the person I liked made out with a random guy within 20 meters from me I’d be mad too.”

“Wait, who do you even like? I don’t think I’ve ever asked you,” Hanamaki approached him, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Like I’d ever tell you,” Matsukawa laughed, taking Hanamaki’s hand and lifting himself off the floor.

***

The doorbell rang, making Oikawa jump in his place. For a moment he was overwhelmed with a horrifying feeling of déjà vu, but instead of Terushima’s cocky smirk, he was greeted by a pair of familiar brown eyes. Iwaizumi was standing on his porch in his Godzilla t-shirt (which Oikawa despised with all his being, it was really fucking ugly) and a pair of shorts, holding a pencil case and a couple of notebooks.

“Hi,” Oikawa smiled, moving aside. “This is the last time I’m tormenting you like this, I swear.”

“Now you’re just lying to both of us,” Iwaizumi groaned stepping in and closing the door with his foot. He followed Oikawa to the empty living room. “Your parents aren’t at home?”

“Nope, they’re both working.” Oikawa put his textbooks on the table and made his way to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’ll take something later, thanks,” Iwaizumi sat down and opened his notebook. Oikawa joined him.

They studied for nearly half an hour, and with each passing minute, Oikawa was more and more sure he was going to fail this exam. It wasn’t because Iwaizumi was a bad instructor ( _ au contraire!) _ , but because Oikawa couldn’t focus on anything else but, well,  _ Iwaizumi _ . The way his (muscular and very pretty) forearms were leaning on the table, that one strand of hair that was sticking out over his forehead, their knees accidentally touching under the table (the first two times were  _ actually _ accidental, the others happened because of Oikawa’s intervention). And his  _ voice _ \- Oikawa could listen to him talk about  _ anything _ ; he didn’t know how, but Iwaizumi had just made the term ‘electromagnetic interference’ sound dangerously appealing.

“Are you even listening to me, Shittykawa?” Iwaizumi sighed throwing his pencil on the table.

“Of course I am!”

“You seem absent-minded. I’m not going to sit here and lecture your kitchen wall.”

“I swear I was listening _ very carefully _ to what you were saying, I just spaced out for a second.” Oikawa stretched his arms out, his knee wandering off just a little too far and brushing the other boy’s leg.

Iwaizumi slammed his knee back. “Stop hitting me. We can take a small break if you need it.”

“Yeah that would be nice,” Oikawa took his glasses off. “You know, I’m still pissed at you for not telling me you can salsa.”

“It was literally just a two-month summer dance course.”

“A two-month summer dance course _ I didn’t know about _ .”

“Your face is looking very punchable right now.”

Oikawa helplessly threw his hands in the air. “I thought we were  _ friends _ !”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Oikawa hit his knee again, this time in a playful manner. “No need to be so mean.” Iwaizumi hit his knee back.

“Someone has to be. Otherwise, you’d get too full of yourself.”

“I’m not that egotistical!”

Iwaizumi snorted. “Yeah bet, that’s why you carry all those fangirls around you.”

“I mean nobody’s forcing them to follow me,” Oikawa huffed. “And just so you know, some of them can be really nice sometimes. I should’ve asked one of them to tutor me physics, all you do is bully me.”

“Shut up, I’m not bullying you. Besides, you’re literally gay. There’s no logical reason for you to keep posing and acting like an idiot whenever they surround you.”

“What can I say? I’m just a decent human being who loves bringing joy to others,” Oikawa flashed him an angelic grin and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, turning his head to hide a smile.

“You’re a terrible human being. I should probably start hanging out with Mattsun and Makki more, you only use me as a physics instructor and a human shield against your fans anyways.” Iwaizumi joked, but his words came out harsher than expected.

“What? No!” Oikawa’s eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t say that, you know you mean a lot more than that to me. You’ve been my best friend since we were five, I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened in surprise, a warm tingling spreading over his cheeks. He lowered his stare, unsure where to look at. “I was just joking, Shittykawa.”

“No, I know!” Oikawa leaned on the table and rested his chin on his arms. “I just wanted you to know.”

Iwaizumi looked up, resting his gaze on Oikawa. He was zoned out, staring at something in front of him, his fingers tapping to an easy rhythm. Maybe it was the light from the sunset or the words he just said, but Oikawa’s features suddenly looked so delicate. His eyes were glowing, reflecting the falling sun, and Iwaizumi felt a sudden urge to tuck that one strand of hair behind his ear, lift his chin, and just look at him. Look at the way the rays of the sun would linger on his skin and make his freckles stand out, the way his soft brown hair would fall in front of his face, and the way his eyes would widen, capturing the pink sunlight and the golden clouds. Iwaizumi’s hand moved just slightly, but before he could decide what to do Oikawa turned his head to look at him.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Iwaizumi mumbled, immediately pulling his hand back. They stared at each other in silence until Oikawa slowly leaned back. He turned himself in his chair so their faces were mere inches apart, his knee gently pressing into Iwaizumi’s. He searched Iwaizumi’s face looking for any kind of discomfort or uneasiness but he couldn’t find any so he carefully tilted his head. Iwaizumi’s breath hitched and Oikawa took that as a sign to close the space left between them.

For the past few moments, Iwaizumi felt as if time had slowed down. He wasn’t focused on anything but the boy in front of him, millions of senseless thoughts rushing through his mind in what felt like ages. He knew what was happening, he knew that Oikawa was going to kiss him, but he felt hazy, dream-like, his body refusing to believe it. But he was brought back to reality when a pair of soft lips collided with his.

It was a shy, light peck at first, but Iwaizumi didn’t hesitate to kiss him back properly. He felt Oikawa's frame leaning onto his, and he readjusted in his seat to deepen the kiss. Oikawa let out a small sigh and Iwaizumi felt his heartbeat speeding up. He wanted to push him back, or wrap his hands around his waist, or tug his hair, or just  _ touch _ him somehow, but the awkward position of the chairs and the table didn’t allow much of that. Oikawa pushed their bodies even closer, one hand resting on the chair beside Iwaizumi’s thigh and the other one gently cupping his cheek. Iwaizumi couldn’t - no, he  _ didn’t want to _ think about anything else but  _ him _ \- how good he felt against his mouth, how hot his hand felt as it slid to his neck, his fingers leaving a burning feeling on Iwaizumi’s skin. Maybe it was the fact that Iwaizumi didn’t kiss anyone for the last two years but,  _ fuck _ , Oikawa knew what he was doing. Iwaizumi lightly pushed his torso away, trying to catch his breath. His chest was heaving, his breath coming out in short pants, and before he could say anything he heard a notification sound.

Oikawa clicked his tongue in annoyance, turning to grab his phone but still keeping his position. Iwaizumi noticed his fingers were slightly shaking while he was trying to unlock his phone and he was relieved to see he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. He wanted to say something but he couldn’t seem to find the right words so he settled on recollecting his breath and watching Oikawa (whose chest was still awfully close to his) fumble with his phone. Iwaizumi wasn’t a nosy person, he couldn’t care less whose text it was but when another notification popped out, his eyes accidentally slid over. There was no profile picture but the name was there.

_ Terushima Yuuji. _

He frowned. Wasn’t that the name Hanamaki mentioned earlier? The name of the blond boy he saw today at the practice match?

Oikawa managed to set his phone on mute and turned back to Iwaizumi. “Sorry, it’s nothing,” he breathed out and crashed their lips together again. This time, Iwaizumi wasn’t so quick to kiss back. Part of him wanted to forget everything and just kiss Oikawa like his life depended on it, but something in the back of his mind was screaming, telling him to pull back and he felt a wave of anxiety washing over him. What was he doing? Oikawa made out with that guy  _ a couple of hours ago. _ Yahaba saw it, Hanamaki and Matsukawa saw it, hell even he saw it. So what was he doing  _ now _ , in his kitchen, kissing him and pretending that this moment is as important to Oikawa as it is to him? He started leaning back, trying to break the kiss but Oikawa followed him, not getting the hint. Once more Iwaizumi desperately tried to enjoy the moment, but he knew he was setting himself up for heartbreak. He felt a knot forming in his stomach, Terushima’s face jumping out in front of his eyes every time their lips broke apart and locked together again. It was both the best and worst kiss Iwaizumi had ever had, and he had no choice but to break it.

He turned his head and gently pushed Oikawa off of himself. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this.” Oikawa’s eyebrows creased in confusion, hurt evident in his eyes. Iwaizumi’s heart clenched in his chest.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Iwaizumi sighed, turning away. “Everything was okay. I just don’t think we want the same thing.”

“But you kissed back and I thought it was okay if-”

“I don’t want to be just a hookup, Oikawa,” he said seriously, his eyes meeting Oikawa’s. The other boy opened his mouth in protest but Iwaizumi cut him off. “I know you often like to change who you’re with, and I’m not judging you for it, but that’s not my thing. So I think it would be best if we just… kept this the way it’s been until now.”

Oikawa’s face scrunched up in disbelief. “I never- I’d never use you just as a hookup. You’re important to me, you think I’d risk ruining our friendship over something like that?”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi scoffed. “Is that what you said to that guy you screwed a week ago?”

Oikawa groaned, crossing his arms. “You’re talking about that picture, aren’t you?”

“It’s not just about the picture, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi could feel himself getting angrier.  _ He  _ knew _ there was a picture going around? _ “It’s about how you can’t realize that it’s not okay to hook up with a random guy and then come up to me and expect me to make out with you and play along to your flirting. Maybe that’s normal for you but that’s not really something I do," he spat out, his voice as bitter as ever. Traces of anger started showing on Oikawa’s face as well.

“Can you even hear yourself? Fucking hell, I’m not a whore. I didn’t hook up with anyone, especially not that Terushima guy; the picture is staged and- Iwaizumi, _ wait _ !”

Iwaizumi stood up, shoving his phone into his pocket and heading towards the door. “I can’t believe this,” he turned around once more. Oikawa clenched his jaw, his eyes were stubborn but his expression was hurt more than anything else. Iwaizumi swallowed. “There’s no use in making shit up. Just say that you slept with the guy and go. I don’t care, it’s not my problem.”

“No, listen to me-”

“And even if that picture was fake, then what were you doing this morning in the locker room?”

“It's not what it looked like!" Oikawa whined. “He just gave me his number!”

Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows. “He gave you his number?”

“Yeah! No…” Oikawa smacked his forehead. “That text he sent me just now - he asked me whether I’m coming to that party next weekend.”

“Right. So you can hook up again like you did last time,” Iwaizumi snorted, opening the door. “Look, I’m happy for you and whatever the hell is going on between you and that Terushima guy. I’m not trying to tell you who you can or can’t sleep with, just please, keep me out of it. I don’t want to be someone you go to when you don’t have anywhere else to be.” With that he closed the door and left, leaving Oikawa alone with the sound of his footsteps growing quieter and quieter.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not posting in a month! I have no excuse, I just suck. Anyways, I still love this fic and I'm going to finish it (it's not going to be much longer, it's my first fic ever so I didn't want to write something too complicated). Thanks for reading!


	6. It's All Your Fault Yahaba

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a month and a half... imreallyreallysorryihavenosenseofresponsibilityduringsummer

Oikawa Tooru was having a bad day.

He woke up at five am after barely four hours of sleep, sniffling and sneezing like a madman. He blindly tapped around his nightstand trying to find his Avamys nasal spray and blink away the sticky puffiness in his eyes. Apparently leaving the window wide open during the night and letting all the pollen and indistinguishable tree scents abuse his allergies wasn’t the brightest idea.

Feeling like absolute shit, he tiptoed his way downstairs trying to make as little noise as possible. Having no idea what to do until seven am, he poured some water into the pot and put it on the stove. Waiting for it to boil, he sat on the sofa wrapping himself in his blanket and staring (as much as his red, swollen eyes let him) blankly at the wall. No sooner than five minutes later he heard the water bubbling and went to take it off. But before he could make himself a calming cup of tea, the handle slipped from his fingers and the water Todorokied his legs, falling to the floor and waking up the entire street with such a reverberating clank that exists only at 5 in the morning.

After explaining to his parents why he had second-degree burns on his thighs in the middle of the night he went to take a shower. Obviously, he forgot to bring a towel so he had to cross the entire house butt-naked and dripping like the Niagara falls just to get himself a proper t-shirt and a pair of jeans. It was around that point that Oikawa figured the day would be crap.

A couple of hours passed and it was time for Oikawa to head to school - he checked his bag twice making sure he had everything he needed, said goodbye to his mum and dad, and left the house. The day was cloudy but still warm, and now that his nose had cleared up and his eyes weren’t as red he could actually enjoy the nature around him. Suddenly a small black cat crossed his path and Kuroo immediately popped into his head. He didn’t call him nor Bokuto since last week and, as much as he missed their company, he didn’t feel like constantly bothering them with his whining. But still, they were his friends. He couldn’t neglect them because of his own problems. Actually, talking to someone just may help him; he could clear his head and listen to what they have to say (not that Oikawa would listen to their advice ever again, but it’s the thought that counts). Besides, he was sure they were interested in what was going on as well - if anything, they would make great emotional support pillars. Suddenly he felt bad about not calling them.

Maybe the black cat really was a sign for him to finally reach out to them.  _ Or an omen of inevitable doom _ , he thought as he eyed a suspiciously placed banana peel on the sidewalk. Slipping on a banana peel never looked realistic to Oikawa, but considering the way things were going for him this morning, it started looking awfully probable. He went around the peel in a ridiculously big circle, making sure that by following all known laws of physics his foot couldn’t make contact with it. He finally bypassed it, letting out a deep breath - so the cat really wasn’t a sign of bad luck, just a friendly reminder to call Kuroo. Just as that thought slipped away, he abruptly stopped in his tracks. Nearby, lightning struck and rain began to drizzle.

He forgot his volleyball equipment.

***

He barged into the classroom fifteen minutes late, irritable, wet, and muttering an apology. Ignoring the questioning looks of his classmates he slumped down on his chair and began taking out his books. He finally finished, wiggling his seat forward, when he felt something sticky on the back of his pants. Moving aside he discovered a freshly chewed bubblegum placed right in the middle of his chair.

A bad day? Scratch that. To say that Oikawa Tooru was having a bad day would be a huge fucking understatement. And that was all without the gigantic incomprehensible shipwreck of a mess he had going on with Iwaizumi.

As a cherry on top, Iwaizumi had been avoiding him the entire day, and although he didn’t make a huge fuss about it, it was hard not to notice the two once inseparable friends suddenly ignoring each other. He caught Hanamaki and Matsukawa whispering and glancing in his direction during the break but the rest of the team didn’t mention anything. And even though he felt the curious eyes of his teammates on his back, he was grateful that nobody said anything out loud. That was, of course, until Yahaba eyed them both in the changing rooms and narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“Hey, are you two mad at each other?” he asked naively, unaware of the awkward tension the question would create. Oikawa froze. The chatter died down agonizingly slow as everyone turned their heads to look at them. Watari discretely kicked Yahaba’s knee as Iwaizumi stood up. Feeling waves of panic washing over him Oikawa started backing off.

“What? No, we’re fine, haha! I mean it’s just been, uh, a weird day and I-” before he could finish Iwaizumi shoved past him without batting an eye and left the room, leaving Oikawa and the rest of his team in stunned silence. It took Oikawa a whole minute before he recovered from the shock and found his voice again.

“I, uh, I’m sorry about that,” he mumbled, staring at his feet. Matsukawa slapped his knee.

“Don’t worry, captain, it’s not your fault! However, Yahaba, you _ stupid fuck _ -”

Yahaba jumped in protest and the newfound silence turned into their usual bickering. The hammering in Oikawa’s chest wasn’t dying down, but his stubbornness and pride started taking over the initial embarrassment and panic.  _ Two can play that game _ , he thought bitterly. No one was going to treat him that way - whether they were his best friend or not.

***

The practice went well, in fact, coach Irihata was so content he let them have a mini-match at the end. The group split in two and Oikawa ended up on the team with Kunimi, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi. Although Oikawa reciprocated Iwaizumi’s blatant ignoring during the training, he did secretly observe him. The other boy didn’t let his emotions get in the way of his game - he kept his calm and his spikes were sharp and accurate.

That was brilliant news! Too bad Oikawa wasn’t going toss to him at all.

The sound of the whistle pierced the air and the game began. Matsukawa received the ball and Oikawa sent it to Kunimi. Soon after another one came in his direction and he directed it towards Matsukawa. And the next one. And the next one after. The ball after that was a bit more tricky, it wasn’t received well enough for him to send it to anyone but Iwaizumi in front of him. But  _ whoops  _ his fingers slipped and the ball went to Kunimi, albeit a bit sloppy for his taste.  _ It’s okay, it’s not suspicious yet _ , he thought as yet another ball went flying towards Matsukawa. And at that point, for the first time that day, he felt Iwaizumi’s stare burning into his back.  _ Good _ , he thought as he redirected the incoming ball to Kunimi.

The game was nearing its end and Iwaizumi’s expression was getting more and more aggravated with each point. Even the blockers on the other side of the net stopped paying attention to him and Oikawa started wondering if he could last the entire game like that.

The ball flew over the net and Kunimi received it, sending it almost perfectly to Oikawa. He prepared for the toss, already making a mental note of where Matsukawa was standing, when another voice called out to him.

“Toss to me!” Iwaizumi was already jumping. Their eyes met and for a brief moment Oikawa almost gave in, his hands itching to toss to the side with no blockers. His fingers touched the ball, his hands wrapping around it perfectly, and with one swift motion, he stubbornly dumped it over the net himself. The whistle marked the end of the point and before Oikawa could turn away to high-five Matsukawa a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him back.

“The next ball you get, toss it to me,” Iwaizumi uttered through gritted teeth, his eyes boring into Oikawa’s with such determination and spite that made it almost unbearable to keep returning the stare.

“Ok,” he said with the biggest resting bitch face. Iwaizumi let go of his shoulder as he returned to his position. The game resumed and it was Oikawa’s turn to serve. He hit the ball, quickly running to his position by the net. It wasn’t long before the ball ended up on their side of the court again and Oikawa’s body trembled with that familiar anticipation. The ball came flying his way and he lifted his hands.  _ He wants a toss? He will get a toss _ , and without much thought, he sent the ball right at Iwaizumi’s face. Funnily enough, the ball actually bounced over the net and they won the point, but nobody seemed to care, especially not Iwaizumi, who was now walking towards Oikawa  _ menacingly _ .

“What the hell is your problem?!” he shouted, his fists clenching, and it took Oikawa all the courage he had to keep an expressionless face. Usually, Oikawa thought Iwaizumi looked pretty hot when he was angry, he even joked about wanting to be crushed between his arms, but usually, that anger wasn’t directed at him, and Oikawa was  _ fucking terrified _ . He kept glancing at his fists, which seemed more and more clenched with every passing second and he started wondering whether Iwaizumi would actually punch him. He’s hit him before, true, but never around this many people and never  _ this  _ furious. He thought of staying still and taking quietly whatever comes his way like it doesn’t bother him at all, but the size of Iwaizumi’s biceps was a bit worrying and he would’ve been downright stupid not to try and shield himself.

He instinctively lifted his arms but Iwaizumi didn’t take a swing. Instead, he grabbed him by the collar and threw him on the ground. Oikawa’s back collided with the hard floor and before he could defend himself Iwaizumi picked him up by the shirt just to throw him again, this time with a much bigger force. Somebody screamed for them to stop but Iwaizumi didn’t seem to care, he lunged at him, but this time Oikawa was ready. He grabbed Iwaizumi before the latter could do anything and rolled them both on the floor. Iwaizumi easily removed his hands and reached back, preparing to punch him, but a pair of arms grabbed him from behind and pulled him off. Oikawa took the chance and swung, his fist making full contact with Iwaizumi’s nose.

“You obnoxious prick,” Iwaizumi hissed, spitting drops of blood in the process and trying to free himself from Matsukawa’s grasp. Matsukawa fell back struggling to keep Iwaizumi put but it was difficult even for the taller boy. Oikawa was ready to jump at him again but another pair of arms wrapped under his armpits and the two boys were finally separated from each other. Oikawa immediately gave in, but Iwaizumi didn’t stop squirming until the coach ran up to them.

“What in the world was that?” coach Irihata raised his voice in disbelief. “What were you  _ thinking _ ?!”

“I’m sorry, coach-” Iwaizumi lowered his head, his nose dripping with blood, but the coach interrupted him.

“You’re  _ sorry _ ? You two jumped at each other’s necks like a pair of wild animals, I’m afraid a ‘sorry’ won’t make up for anything,” he yelled, his voice echoing through the silent gym. “I would have never expected something like this from you two, especially since you’re the upperclassmen and should be an example,  _ especially  _ since you’re captain and vice-captain.”

Oikawa’s eyes fell to the ground, the adrenaline slowly wearing off.

“I expect you to have this resolved by next practice. I also expect you to keep your personal matter out of volleyball - and out of the school grounds for that matter. If by next Monday you aren’t playing your best and cooperating with each other I will not hesitate to have you replaced. Not as a punishment, but because as a coach I need to give the team the best possible chance for victory. Understood?”

“Yes, coach,” Oikawa muttered and Iwaizumi soon followed. The coach sighed.

“I don’t know what this was today and I’m not going to demand an explanation. I will also not mention this to any other teachers, but I hope you were paying close attention to what I was saying.” His voice softened a little. “I will get you a towel, Iwaizumi.”

The boy nodded, holding his hands under his face trying to make as little mess as possible. Hanamaki cautiously removed his arms from Oikawa.

“Everything okay, man?” Hanamaki asked helping him get up. Oikawa muttered a small thanks and nodded. A few steps away Matsukawa mouthed  _ We are so going to Iwaizumi’s this afternoon _ , and Hanamaki shook his head in a N _ ot the time, Mattsun _ notion even though he was himself curious to find out what happened between the two.

Oikawa avoided talking to anyone and quickly packed his things. A few people stayed on the court with Iwaizumi to help him clean up the blood, while the rest of them followed Oikawa to the changing rooms. Some didn’t dare to say anything while some tried to be compassionate by patting his back or giving him a considerate smile but they all soon left him alone, realizing he needed space. Well, everyone except Yahaba who was walking around stiff as a flagpole, pale and with a mortified expression on his face. Now that he thought about it, just after the fight, he might’ve heard Kunimi telling him something that sounded a lot like “It’s all your fault, Yahaba”. Poor child. But little emotional trauma is healthy for proper growth, and he himself had much bigger things to worry about.

Ironically, he almost felt more relaxed now that he was acknowledged by Iwaizumi -  _ anything _ was better than being completely ignored. But he knew that a feeling of dread would creep up on him pretty soon and he didn’t want to be alone when that happened. Maybe he really should call Bokuto and Kuroo today. He wondered what his friends would have to say about this new situation.

***

It was a cloudy but warm evening in the Miyagi prefecture and two third-years were striding down a small street near the Aobajohsai school. They seemed to be immersed in a heated debate.

“What I’m saying is, I’m one hundred percent on Iwaizumi’s side,” Matsukawa snapped. “I don’t know what’s up with him but Oikawa  _ is  _ acting like a dick. He shouldn’t have- let me  _ finish _ , Hanamaki - he shouldn’t have kissed Iwaizumi yesterday if he was still texting the blonde guy and doing I-don’t-want-to-know-what in the locker rooms. I understand Iwaizumi completely and I would probably do the same thing.”

_ So he’s the jealous type _ , Hanamaki made a mental note before replying. “Okay, first of all, we cannot be sure they did anything in the locker rooms-”

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding me? Weren’t you the one who pulled me and Iwaizumi in the broom cabinet to gossip?”

“Yeah, yeah but I changed my mind. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for everything that happened - Oikawa is into him I swear it on my  _ dog _ . Matsukawa, I swear, you don’t see what I see or else you’d be saying the same thing. I talked to Kindaichi and even he said it’s obvious, and you know he has the observational skills of a brick wall.”

“Well if he was so madly in love with him maybe he shouldn’t have had sex with Terushima.”

Hanamaki threw his hands in the air. “We don’t know that! Besides, you’re acting as if Iwaizumi did nothing wrong. He said he got up and left after the kiss thing, imagine how Oikawa must’ve felt after that. He must’ve been so confused and anxious - I mean I would have personally jumped off a building. Also, Iwaizumi was the one who was ignoring him the entire morning.”

“What was he supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” Hanamaki shot him a weird look, “talk to him?? Try to solve things through a healthy conversation like a normal human being??”

_ He likes to talk things through _ , Matsukawa thought before rolling his eyes. “Not everyone’s a social butterfly like you, candy hair. Some people have trouble properly expressing their emotions.”

“What can I say,” Hanamaki blinked seductively, “my therapist is the goat.”

“Ew, imagine going to therapy.”

“Don’t make fun of mental illness, Matsukawa. You never know when the childhood traumas might start kicking in.”

“Bro, I’d go to therapy just for you.”

“Bro…” Hanamaki pretended to wipe off invisible tears as they walked around the corner. Before he could add anything else, the most abominable sound tore open the evening sky like an ultimate culmination of all sin it was. Both him and Matsukawa jumped in place upon hearing the detestable noise and just before they could ask themselves what caused it, two boys walked out from a smaller street in front of them. They turned their backs to them, continuing to walk in the same direction. One of them (the black-haired one - he looked kinda familiar?) was clutching his stomach in a godawful fit of laughter while the other one (wait, Hanamaki could’ve sworn he’d seen him before as well!) was yelling and waving his hands around. The entire scene was nothing less than pure chaos and neither Hanamaki nor Matsukawa could figure out what they were talking about.

“The guy on the left looks so familiar but I can’t really tell. I left my contact lenses at home,” Mattsun whispered and Hanamaki excitedly slapped his shoulder in response.

“I thought that too! I swear I’ve seen them both somewhere. I wish I could figure out what they’re saying.”

They both fell silent trying to work out at least something from the unintelligible gibberish of the two boys in front of them.

“… it’s the stupidest thing ever, why am I not surprised that it came to this,” the black-haired guy started laughing again.  _ Not even trying to hide that laughter? He sure is confident _ , Hanamaki thought. “When I saw him waiting by the door with that bottle of vodka in his hand I almost pissed myself.”

“He should’ve called us!” the one with the broad shoulders pouted. “I bet we’d have figured something out like we usually do.”

“That bastard,” the black-haired boy shook his head, his hair, which could only be described in the same manner as his laugh: heinous, swaying from side to side. “He really doesn’t trust our advice after that Incident. But I’m telling you - we’re in too deep now and we’re gonna finish what we started whether Oikawa likes it or not.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa froze in place, looking at each other in a  _ wait a minute _ manner. The two boys in front of them continued talking, unaware of the shocked duo they left behind.

“There are many Oikawas around here, right? It’s not an uncommon surname,” Matsukawa whispered carefully.

“Yeah right, it must be a coincidence,” Hanamaki shrugged it off and started walking.

“… I don’t know man, he really screwed it up yesterday. I imagine Iwaizumi’s feeling horrible as well.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa stopped in their tracks again, looking at each other dead in the eye.  _ Fuck. _

“What are we gonna do?” whispered Matsukawa aggressively.

“What do you mean what are we gonna do?? What  _ can  _ we do?”

“I don’t know - talk to them?? Try to solve things through a  _ healthy conversation _ like a  _ normal human being _ ?”

“You little shit,” Hanamaki spat through clenched teeth, letting out a string of curses under his breath and shoving his way forward. “Hey, you two! Are you friends with Oikawa Tooru?”

The two boys in front of them stopped talking. They slowly turned their heads to them, and the pair of Seijoh students were met face to face with Bokuto Koutarou and Kuroo Tetsurou.

“…yes,” Bokuto said narrowing his eyes. 

“Why?” asked Kuroo.

“Cause we’re his friends too. We heard you talking about Iwaizumi too - we go to school with both of them. Actually, we were just coming back from Iwaizumi’s place.”

Bokuto looked at Kuroo. “Huh. And we were just coming back from Oikawa’s place.”

They stood in silence for a good moment staring each other down like cowboys with anxiety. Kuroo crossed his arms.

“Your Iwaizumi - is he the one that called Oikawa a whore?”

It was Hanamaki’s turn to look at Matsukawa. “ _ Huh. _ He didn’t mention anything like that.”

“And your Oikawa,” Matsukawa refused to back down, “is he the one that broke Iwaizumi’s nose this morning?”

“ _ HUH. _ Oikawa definitely didn’t mention  _ that, _ ” Bokuto recalled.

No one said anything and Kuroo smacked his forehead. “I hate them. I hate them both. Bokuto, when is our next train to Tokyo?”

“I think we have at least an hour before we have to be at the station.”

“Wonderful. Boys, would you like to go grab a drink? There should be a coffee shop down the street, and I think the four of us will have a  _ very  _ interesting conversation.”

“I agree,” Hanamaki nodded frantically. “We need a plan to get them together, or at least back to normal.”

“Seems like we’ll have to take the matter into our own hands again,” Bokuto sighed as Kuroo turned away.

“As if we’re the protagonists of this damn fic,” he mumbled but luckily no one heard him..

“Let’s do it,” Matsukawa complied.

“Alright, let’s go,” Kuroo waved his hand. “Bokuto and I already had something in mind...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so here's how things are: this was a shorter chapter but the next one should be a long one so it should balance each other out. There should be two more chapters, then an epilogue and then *maybe* a bonus chapter. That's how I initially planned it but the truth is I kinda uh don't have anything outlined so that should be just *chef's kiss*.  
> Anyways - thank you for reading!


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